


The Phoenix In The Watchtower

by FiliKiliThorinForever



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blood, BotFA Fix-It, Burns, Caring Kíli, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Gore, Graphic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More tags to be added, One's, Recovery, Serious Injuries, Soulmates, Torture, Worried Kíli, Worried Thorin, hurt!Fili - Freeform, major Fili whump, prompt-fill, somewhat major character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiliKiliThorinForever/pseuds/FiliKiliThorinForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The watchtower was where they had to go, where they would find the foul beast they needed to kill in order to end the bloodshed. Never in Kili's wildest dreams did he expect to be forced to watch the defiler hold his beloved over the side of the tower before pulling him back and thanking Thorin for the gift he was sent.</p><p>And he never expected having to find some way to bring his One home to him alive and recovered when letting him die might have been the kinder option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Separated By Stone And Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xLilarosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLilarosa/gifts).



**A/N: Hello everyone! So this fic has come about due to a prompt given to me by the amazing xLilarosa:**

_Instead of Azog stabbing Fili and dropping him over the precipice, he makes a show of torturing him in front of the company before tossing him back to his army to finish him off. Fili survives, though, as do Thorin and Kili. It isn't until after the battle that Fili is found, and then begins a whole new battle to try to save his life_

**And of course being me I just couldn't leave well enough alone :D The chapters for this one will come along slowly as I've got this plus two others on the go at the moment and many more to do. Hopefully In Our Time Apart will get completed within the next few weeks as well as updates for this and The Fire In My Blood.**

**Please be warned that the first few chapters (not so much this one) will have graphic descriptions of torture, however that won't be the whole story and I'll add a torture warning at the beginning of the relevant chapters for you all so you can skip them or prepare yourself before reading.**

**xLilarosa, hope you enjoy my dear ;)**

**Hanging out on[Tumblr](http://www.filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/) and let me know what you think! :)**

**As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien**

 

* * *

  

The sun peaked out from behind the clouds as Thorin stood on the precipice of the icecap, gazing up at the tower ahead of him that hid his target, the one he needed to kill to throw the orcs into disarray and end this bloodshed for good. He prayed that Fíli and Kíli would be gone no longer than a few minutes, their sharp eyes and sharper ears gaining what he needed to finish this once and for all.

_“Thorin!”_

The dwarf king spun around with astonishment as the hobbit appeared out of nowhere and came stumbling to a stop, panting as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

“Bilbo!”

“You have to leave here, now.” Bilbo pleaded, moving towards the edge of the ice so that he could point to the hill beside the outpost. “Azog has another army attacking from the north. This watchtower will be completely surrounded there’ll be no way out.”

Dwalin and Thorin looked at one another in alarm. Their troops could barely handle the army they were already fighting, much less another. If those Orcs reached the battle Thorin knew without a doubt that they would lose this fight and everyone would be slaughtered, starting with them.

It was as though his shield brother could see the decision forming on his face for Dwalin stepped forward and spoke urgently. “We are so close, that orc scum is in there. I say we -”

“No!” He cut him off quickly. He wanted nothing more than to charge in there and finish it but knew that if they lingered any longer they would have no chance to lead a counter attack against both forces and possibly survive. “That’s what he wants; he wants to draw us in.”

It was then as he glanced at the watchtower, standing there desolate and shrouded in shadow that a sudden and horrible realisation hit him.

“This is a trap.”

He wanted to scream for how could he have been so blind? The moment they had arrived Azog was nowhere to be seen, and after slaughtering the few Orcs that crossed their path they had come across no others. It was as though they were waiting, watching, and it had taken him this long to realise it.

And he had sent his nephews straight to them.

“Find Fíli and Kíli, call them back!” Thorin urged, already moving to look for the battle rams that had carried them there. The sooner they got off the icecap and away from the one Orc he wanted to kill more than anything the better.

Dwalin however didn’t look as convinced as he knew if they left any chance of killing the pale Orc was gone. “Thorin, are you sure about this?”

“Do it. We’ll live to fight another day.”

Dwalin nodded, and just as they were about to split up running footsteps thundered towards them. Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo looked at each other before turning and drawing their swords, readying themselves for another attack believing they had just run out of time.

Kíli hurtled around the corner and Thorin quickly lowered his sword, his two companions mimicking his movement so the brunet didn’t impale himself on their blades if he lost his balance. The young dwarf slid to a stop, shooting a grin at Bilbo before he focused on his uncle.

“The lower levels of the tower are clear Thorin,” he reported as he panted slightly. “It looks like they may have left in a hurry as it’s completely abandoned.”

Thorin nodded, growing uneasy at the news which only reconfirmed his suspicions that it was indeed a trap. Just as he went to tell his nephew they were withdrawing Bilbo stepped forward, worry on his face as he peered behind the young dwarf.

“Kíli, where is your brother?”

It was then that Thorin realised Kíli had arrived on his own, and the alarmed expression on his nephews face as he looked between the three of them set his heart racing in fear in his chest.

“Kíli,” he asked slowly “where is Fíli?”

Kíli looked at the three of them in horror as he knew that if the tower had been empty in the upper levels as well Fíli should have been back at the same time as him. Rather than answering, Kíli turned on his heel determined to find the one dwarf who meant more than anything to him when he was stopped by a tight grip on his wrist.

“Don’t even think about it,” Thorin growled at his nephew, his gaze scanning the tower for any signs of movement, yet it stood as still and silent as it had since they arrived. He looked back to his sister-son, the fear radiating off him practically visible and he let go of the wrist as it was yanked away.

“I will not leave him there,” Kíli snarled, backing away only to collide with Dwalin who had moved behind him.

“Your brother knows how to look after himself!”

The two dwarves glared at each other, neither backing down until shrieks echoed around them and they all drew their swords, watching in horror as orc mercenaries flooded into the clearing and stood in front of the tower cutting them off completely from their companion. Kíli felt panic flood through him as he counted the large number of orcs that separated him from his One and his heart plummeted at the sight of Bolg striding through the group, the mutilated face snarling at them as they stood poised ready to strike but not yet moving, as though something was holding them back.

“What are they waiting for?” Dwalin breathed, his hands tightening around his axes as he assessed their enemy. Before any of them had the chance to answer a light flickered from the watch tower, drawing their eyes upwards and they watched as Azog emerged from the shadows.

And he wasn’t alone.

 

* * *

 

Kíli thought he might be sick as he watched as his brother was dragged by the collar to the edge of the tower before Azog lifted him into the air, looking on in horror as the blond struggled desperately.

“Go!” Fíli cried to his family when he spotted them standing there rooted to the spot in shock, silently pleading that they would leave him to his fate so that they could get away and have a chance at surviving.

Azog’s deep guttural laugh rang out as he shook the dwarf in his grasp, watching with satisfaction as the youngest dwarf in the group had to be stopped from racing towards them.

“Thank you for the gift you have given me Oakenshield,” he rasped, hoisting the dwarf higher and laughing as his prisoner shouted out to his family once more.

“RUN!”

“I shall thoroughly enjoy it.”

 

* * *

 

“FÍLI!” Kíli screamed as Azog dragged his One back into the heart of the tower, surging forward in desperation and ready to kill as many orcs as possible so he could free his brother from the pale Orcs grasp. He let out a war cry as he charged, his roar echoed by his Uncle, Dwalin and even Bilbo before they found themselves tangled with the orcs and fighting for their lives with only one destination in mind.

 

* * *

 

Fíli barely had time to bring his arms in front of him to stop his head from hitting the stone as Azog tossed him to the floor. The moment he had his hands on the ground he flipped himself over, refusing to keep his back vulnerable to the Orc and he watched warily as Azog prowled towards him. He held his head high, refusing to look away from him for even a moment as he was of Durin’s line, and they never backed down from a fight. But his defiance seemed to entertain Azog even more as the orc picked up his blade and trailed the tip along his cheek, flicking his wrist to cut it shallowly and laughing as the first bead of blood escaped the wound.

“You are brave to defy me, little prince,” Azog growled as he let his blade fall away. “I remember you from the cliff tops and I will finish what I started then. I will destroy the line of Durin one by one, beginning with you.

You will be begging for mercy before I kill you.”

“That will never happen.”

Fíli glared at the Orc as he moved closer and wished more than anything he still had one of his blades so that he could sink it through this monsters eye. He used a different kind of weapon though, and the moment Azog was in front of him he spat at the Orc, his satisfaction for hitting the defilers face was short lived when Azog swung his clawed arm at him, the steel connecting with his face and he grunted as his head snapped to the side, a warmth on his brow telling him the Orc had split the skin.

Azog towered over him, fury on his face as he pointed his sword at the dwarf at his feet.

“We shall see about that.”


	2. A Fading Hope

**A/N: Hello everyone! Wow, almost 2 weeks since I've posted anything! It's been odd almost, not working hard out on writing every night. I've been doing bits and pieces but the fire that I had previously seems to have fizzled out slightly, hopefully this is a sign a candle has been relit and will eventually make its way back to the fire place.**

**In the mean time here's the next chapter that I've had written for a while only I didn't want to post straight away as there were a couple of parts that didn't flow right but I think that's been fixed now, hooray! Anyway I'm slowly working my way through this, The Fire In My Blood and In Our Time Apart so hopefully I'll have more out for you all soonish :)**

_ ****WARNING! Depictions of torture/graphic violence in this chapter!**** _

**A special shout out to[confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [MatildaJohnson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaJohnson), [megavenger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megavenger), [sarahjhutch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch), [madbutterfly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly), [L_The_other_consulting_detective](http://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective), [cybersuzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cybersuzy), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan), [EmeraldJaded](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldJaded), [FirstLovexx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstLovexx), [Blueskydancers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers), [fkuz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fkuz), [mosslover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover), [xNamikaze](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xNamikaze), [ThornyHedge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge), and [narnia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narnia) as well as the 15 guests who've commented and kudosed, you guys are awesome!**

**As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien**

 

* * *

 

Fíli looked around the inside of the tower in barely concealed panic. Not only was he literally cut off from his Uncle and brother by a swarm of Orcs, but he’d been dragged into a room he knew to be heavily guarded and if Thorin and Kíli somehow survived the battle he could hear raging down below they would be too exhausted to survive any attempt at rescuing him. It was up to him, he realised, to get out of this situation that he had gotten himself into yet as his eyes searched the room he found all the doors to be blocked by orcs.

And the warg that prowled around the circle was another problem altogether.

As he looked for an escape he didn’t hear Azog approach until the orcs remaining hand tangled in his hair, pulling him harshly to his knees and he grit his teeth in pain. Glaring at the orc he watched as Azog brought his claw up to his uncut cheek, trailing the tips of the metal across the flesh in a mock caress before jerking harshly, splitting the skin and grinning cruelly as droplets of blood tumbled free.

His lips pulled back into a snarl as a fire erupted in his cheek and he bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from making a sound. He knew what Azog wanted, the orc had told him he would be begging for his death by the end and he knew that if he was killed he would die silently so as not to give the orc the satisfaction of seeing any weakness. He almost sighed in relief when Azog released the painful grip he had in his hair, slumping down to his knees and he watched as the orc circled him once more.

Taking a steadying breath Fíli looked at the Orc with a smirk. “Whatever you are going to do,” he said in what he hoped was a bored tone, “get on with it. I hardly feel this is worthy of begging for my life. Falling out of trees has hurt more than this.”

“Trust me dwarf-scum,” Azog hissed as he unsheathed his sword “we have only just begun.” And with that, the orc plunged his sword into the dwarf’s thigh, grinning at the pain that flashed in the blue eyes. No noise escaped him however, and so he pressed down harder, turning the blade slowly and chuckling as the dwarf screwed his eyes shut and pressed his chin to his chest as he tried to ignore the feeling of his muscle tearing.

Fíli knelt there, breathing heavily as he tried to ignore the pain that was shooting through him, the pull and shifting of the muscle was a pain he had never experienced before. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes as Azog continued to carve into his leg and blinked them away furiously as he stared at the ground, gasping in relief when the orc pulled the sword free. He sat there, trying to calm his racing heart and smother the pain that was now throbbing continuously when a sudden thud in front of him had him looking up in alarm and the sight that met his eyes made his throat run dry.

For there, dangling from Azog’s hand, was his mace. 

A heavy club with dozens of heavy iron spikes protruding from its head hung from a heavy iron chain and Azog was caressing the hilt reverently, almost fondly before he slowly turned to smirk at the dwarf. Fíli swallowed, realising exactly how dire a situation he was in when Azog lifted the mace and let out an almighty roar as he swung it directly into his chest and sent him flying.

All the air left his lungs as he collided with one of the walls and slumped to the ground, a strangled groan slipping from his lips as he felt several of his ribs crack and shift and a wet warmth grow on his skin that quickly moved down his chest to pool on the icy stones. It was as he watched the pale orc approach him that he realised, that he truly understood that this encounter would be something he would never survive.

 

* * *

 

Kíli fought with a fury he had never known he possessed. He knew he was a fierce and often unpredictable fighter at the best of times but the red that seemed to cloud his vision as he fought was something he had never experienced before. Seeing his brother, his One get dragged from his sight by the one creature set on destroying the line of Durin had set something off inside of him and he had thrown himself at his enemies willing to do whatever he had too to get his One back alive.

He ducked as an Orc swung at him and leapt forwards, driving his blade through its chest before yanking his sword out and decapitating it, already lining up his next target.

“Kíli behind you!” 

Thorin’s cry for him had him twisting, his blade coming down heavily on an orc’s throat as he hacked into it furiously, kicking the corpse away from him as he dove onto the back of another who was coming up on Bilbo from behind. Just as he took down the orc he glanced upwards to where he knew his brother to be, the flickering lights of what could only be torches or braziers casting numerous shadows on the walls yet none revealed the one he wanted most.

A laugh boomed out from above setting his blood ablaze and whipping his fury into an inferno as there could only be one reason Azog would be laughing like he was; his brother was suffering. He risked a glance at Thorin who had appeared in the corner of his eye and saw the rage that had consumed his uncle’s face for he too had heard the laugh over the roar of battle. 

The orcs dropped like felled birds as he fought his way to Thorin’s side, needing to work out a plan of attack to get them to the base of the tower before they mounted a rescue. He placed himself so that they were standing back to back, a position that felt oddly strange as the dwarf behind him was not the one he knew better than himself yet he knew that until they got Fíli back it was better than nothing.

“He’s torturing Fíli!” He yelled to his uncle, slicing off the arm of an orc who got too close before running him through.

“Aye, but there is nothing we can do for him right now!” Thorin replied as he dodged a blow aimed for his head. “There are only four of us and we are all tiring, at this rate he will outlive us, if only for a little while.”

“We cannot leave him with that monster!”

“I would rather die than leave him in Azog’s clutches any longer but we need to regroup and plan. Stay behind me and keep an eye out for Bilbo, Dwalin is close by so the sooner we can join him the sooner we can fight with a stronger front!”

Even though Thorin couldn’t see him he nodded, reaching behind quickly to tap his uncle on the shoulder to tell him to start moving. Slowly they fought their way to Dwalin who to their relief had Bilbo right beside him and as Kíli and Bilbo moved out to fight Dwalin and Thorin teamed up; not only did they know how the other fought by heart, but it also allowed them to strategize the best way to reach their main goal, for they needed a plan,

And they needed it quick.

 

* * *

 

Fíli lay there, slumped against the frozen floor as he tried to force air back into his heaving chest, well aware that at least one of the spikes had punctured a lung as the metallic bite of blood filled his mouth. His body trembled in pain as he looked up at the clack of nails against stone and whimpered as Azog’s warg charged at him, the beast’s mouth biting into him and he stifled a whimper when he felt the teeth cut into his flesh as he was lifted. He barely had a chance to register the pressure on his torso when the Warg began shaking its head as an animal would when it was attempting to stun live prey before killing it.

He couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t get his lungs to function around the pressure of the beast’s mouth as he felt his chest slowly succumb to the force that was crushing his ribs. Just as he thought the bones would completely snap if they hadn’t already he was released, his body sent flying and he collided with another wall, not even having a chance to register he was free before the Warg was on him once more. 

Its jaws clamped around his thigh as it dragged him away from the wall and began to shake him back and forth rapidly, and before he could stop it a scream tore from his lips when he felt flesh and muscle tear beneath its teeth. His chainmail had managed to lessen the number of injuries to his torso, but the lack of it on his legs allowed the teeth to sink deeply into the flesh, tearing at muscles and ligaments to reach the bone. His bloodcurdling scream echoed around the tower, the sound bouncing off the stone and hurtling into the open air making Azog roar with laughter as the pale orc revelled in the agonised cries.

And as quickly as the shaking had started it disappeared.

Fíli’s broken body was sent skidding across the floor to Azog’s feet, struggling to breathe and through the tears in his eyes he saw the orc leering down at him.

“And so the first crack appears,” Azog snarled as he placed a heavy boot on the dwarfs mangled leg and pushed down, smirking at the cry that tore free. “And just as ice, you will shatter into tiny pieces as your blood pools at my feet.”

The Orc crouched down and trailed his claw over his chest lightly, and closing his eyes Fíli waited for the pain to rip through his torso as he was impaled on the metal. Instead Azog’s laugh had him snapping his eyes in shock, watching warily as the orc stood and grinned down at him.

“You look a little cold baby Durin, perhaps we ought to warm you up.”

Fíli's heart thundered painfully in his chest as several orcs descended on him, their hands grabbing harshly at his damaged body as they dragged him towards one of the braziers. Using his less damaged leg he tried to dig his heel into the ground to stop them getting closer but he couldn’t find any purchase, his boots slipping on the ice.

“No, no please no!” He begged, twisting his body as he struggled desperately to free himself.

Azog stood there and laughed, watching as the dwarf fought frantically to free himself of his captors as they stopped, the flames crackling away merrily and illuminating the utter terror on the dwarfs face.

“Do it.”

Fíli squirmed in their hold, whimpers escaping as he was pushed to his knees which sent pain exploding through his body from his mangled leg and he fought valiantly to keep his arms against his chest yet it was to no avail. The orcs punched him in the face to stun him as he continued to struggle before they shoved him downwards so he was hunched over and wrenched an arm away from his chest and held it over the open flame.

He shook his head, the blow coupled with the rapidly growing blood loss from his leaving him dizzy and disorientated. He blinked sluggishly; trying to clear his vision and his mind as he slowly began to feel a slight pain in his arm. As awareness flooded back to him so too did the rapidly building warmth and he began to squirm, trying to see his arm to figure out why it hurt so much.

When he finally got a glimpse he immediately wished he hadn’t for it was slowing being lowered into the flame and the leather was beginning to burn. As he struggled he couldn’t help but watch as the leather began to peel away, revealing the already bright red flesh to the flames as they licked over his arm and the smell of burning flesh began to permeate the air.

He screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget, dwarves are hardy folk and Fili would have had large amounts of adrenaline flooding his system in case you think he would have passed out earlier from the pain. Plus I don't think passing out whilst with Azog would be an ideal situation for him... O.o


	3. Black Ice, Crimson Stone

**A/N: I'm BAAACK! Haha just kidding, although it's been a wee while since I've update this, almost three weeks O.o terribly sorry about that! Been busy at work, trying to get the storyline finished for this which it FINALLY is! Writing other chapters, I graduated from uni last week and my family came to stay with me in Queenstown for the weekend, which, if you ever plan on taking your grandparents on a jetboat down here (KJet especially) ensure your grandmother knows you're saying KJet and not cage. Honestly. Imagine her surprise when we turned up there -.- And we told her like three times! Oh well, she went on it and enjoyed it, I've never heard my mum laugh as much in an hour as what she did and the people next to me (plus my mum, dad and grandma in the seats in front of me) got an impromptu bath. Oh how I laughed. XD**

**Anyway, this is probably one of the few short chapters in this story, most I believe will be larger but hey, a bit of light reading for you :D**

**Hanging out on[Tumblr](http://www.filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/)!**

**Special shout out to[Paintedsmile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedsmile), [dardragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dardragon), [WerewulfTherewulf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf), [Raekor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raekor), [Sidney90](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney90), [Bubbles759](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbles759), [confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [MatildaJohnson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaJohnson), [megavenger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megavenger), [sarahjhutch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch), [madbutterfly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly), [L_The_other_consulting_detective](http://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective), [cybersuzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cybersuzy), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan), [EmeraldJaded](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldJaded), [FirstLovexx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstLovexx), [Blueskydancers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers), [fkuz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fkuz), [mosslover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover), [xNamikaze](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xNamikaze), [ThornyHedge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge), and [narnia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narnia) as well as the 29 guests who've commented and kudosed, you guys are awesome!**

**As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien**

 

* * *

  

Kíli’s blade was slick with the blood of his enemies, the corpses of his foes scattered in his wake as he fought relentlessly towards the tower. Since hearing Azog’s laugh the fortress had been silent, not a sound to be heard except for the roar of war and the shrieks as the Orcs died. He had looked up every moment he could spare hoping desperately for some glimpse of his brother, some indication that he was still alive and fighting but aside from the shadows that flickered across the dull stones he received no answers.

He was almost at the entrance to the fortress, almost across the vast expanse of ice that paved the way to his brother when a heart breaking and agonised scream reverberated off the stones and across the frozen lake.

“FÍLI!” He cried, his uncle’s roar echoing his own as he threw himself into the fray with an even greater desperation. His brother was alive that much was now certain, however if his scream was anything to go by Kíli knew he wouldn’t be for much longer. He glanced at his companions as they fought with renewed energy, they were gaining ground but were tiring quickly and if he was honest with himself he didn’t know how much longer they would be able to keep it up before they were overwhelmed by the orcs that just seemed to keep coming.

Taking a deep breath Kíli lunged forwards, his sword swinging and embedding itself in flesh and bone and he prayed to anyone that would listen that he’d reach his One before it was too late.

 

* * *

 

Fíli grunted as he was tossed away from the fire and onto the ground, wincing as his head slammed into the cold stone. He clutched his burnt arm and pressed it tightly against his chest as pain surged through his body, the burnt skin already beginning to bubble into blisters and sting as the cold air wrapped around it. Gritting his teeth he looked up at Azog through eyes clouded with pain only to find the orc towering over him, his lips curling over rotting teeth into a feral snarl as he raised his sword and stabbed it down into his side.

A howl wrenched free as he felt the cold metal tear into his body once more, the blade biting into soft flesh and muscles allowing his blood to spill onto the stone below. He gasped as his head began to spin, the pain coupled with the loss of blood throwing him towards unconsciousness rapidly.

Through the haze that was overtaking his mind he watched as the warg prowled forwards and knew that he needed to try and call out to Kíli or Thorin, to tell them to run for there was no hope for him; that he wouldn’t survive. He barely registered the warg biting down onto his leg once more, having no control over the whimpered pleas followed by a scream that slipped from his lips as the creature bit into him once more, the teeth cutting even deeper into his leg as he was shaken back and forth.

The pain soon became too much for the young dwarf and he passed out, his scream cutting off abruptly moments before the Warg released its hold on him and sent him flying, his back slamming into a large piece of stone that jutted out where a dull crack was heard before his body fell to the ground and lay unmoving.

Azog leered at the unconscious dwarf whose form was slowly being outlined by his blood and strode forward, slamming his iron claw into his back and pulling up so that his prey dangled limply from his hold. He moved towards the open wall that overlooked the battlefield, hoisting his prize up for all to see.

“Look at the mighty line of Durin now Oakenshield, see how easily it falls.”

His booming laugh echoed around the clearing as several cries of terror exploded from amongst his troops where he could make out his next targets and he shook the limp body in torment.

“He is the first to die, but not the last. Prepare to meet your end King under the Mountain!”

 

* * *

 

The moment Azog’s voice boomed from the tower Kíli looked up in fear and felt his heart falter in his chest. For there, suspended in the air by what could be none other than Azog’s claw was Fíli. The blood pounding in his ears drowned out the scream that erupted from him and he surged forwards, the Orcs dropping like flies as his blade sliced through them effortlessly. Try as he might he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from his brother, and watched in horror as Azog taunted his Uncle, shaking the limp blond as though he were a puppet with cut strings.

“THE EAGLES! THE EAGLES ARE COMING!”

Bilbo’s cry had him glancing to the sky in desperation and to his relief there they were; an army of the majestic animals soaring towards them bringing renewed hope with every flap of their great wings. He turned back to the tower with his lips curled into a smile, knowing that there was no way Azog could escape with the eagles there only to have his smile turn into a cry of dismay.

Azog was gone.

With a scream of anger Kíli charged the orcs who were attempting to flee the claws that began grabbing at them from the air, his sword felling any that crossed his path as he crossed the final gap to the entrance of the tower.

A heavy club collided with his chest sending him skidding across the ice, his sword slipping from his grasp the moment he stepped through the archway. He grunted in pain and surprise, glaring as the hulking form of Bolg stalked towards him, his fingers fumbling for the dagger at his waist as he shuffled backwards.

An almighty roar had his head turning in surprise and he saw with relief Thorin and Dwalin charging towards Bolg, their swords raised high as they leapt at the Orc. Knowing Bolg was distracted, if only momentarily he sat up, eyes scanning the ice for his sword when a flash of movement from the corner of his eye had him looking for the threat.

Thankfully the threat came in the form of Bilbo, his blood covered elven dagger clutched in one hand and Kíli’s own sword in the other.

“Looking for this?” Bilbo asked with a small smile, handing the weapon over after he helped the young dwarf to his feet.

Kíli grinned in response, wincing when he stood upright at the ache in his ribs and with a pat on the shoulder he assured the hobbit they were only bruised, twirling his sword once as he crept up behind the Orc whose sword and club were currently tangled with Thorin and Dwalin’s weapons.

With a yell he plunged the sword into Bolg’s back, driving it through the gaps of the steel and bone plates and pushed until the hilt was flush with the grey skin. A squelch as the tip of the blade pierced through Blogs chest was heard, and Kíli peered over the Orcs shoulder, nodding at his kin before turning back to his enemy.

“That was for my brother,” he growled before he withdrew the sword, swinging it quickly in order to decapitate the orc before him.

 And so came about the end of Bolg.

Panting as the body toppled onto the ground Kíli watched as Thorin and Dwalin stepped around the corpse to avoid the black liquid that poured from the headless neck, grinning at the pair as they each clapped a hand on his shoulder with pride on their faces before a roar from the tower had them all sobering quickly as they hurried back to the entrance.

“Yer find Fíli and yer make that scum pay for what he’s done to him!” Dwalin growled, already turning to face the few remaining Orcs that had escaped the eagles, Grasper and Keeper held tightly in his hands.

“No scum will be getting near this tower.”

“Bring him home,” Bilbo added quietly as he took up his position at Dwalin’s side, a fierce determination on the once innocent face.

Kíli and Thorin nodded before racing inside and up the stairs, their stomachs roiling at the thought of what they might find when they reached the top.

 _Hang on Fíli_ , Kíli thought silently, _I’m coming._


	4. The Courage Of Durin's Folk

**A/N: Hello everyone! So I've just gotten back after having dinner with FuryNZ who I met for the first time tonight, and you my dear are absolutely lovely! You and Nathan were great fun to chat with whilst we watched the cricket (thanks for explaining how it works btw) as well as everything and anything we could talk about, and hopefully I'll see you again before you head up North!**

**Now this chapter. Oh god WHAT HAVE I DONE?!**

**Well you'll see. I'm not going to say anything because that will ruin the surprise :P**

**Enjoy!**

**Oh and[Courage and Wisdom](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bv7IqnXyoIQ) is the soundtrack for the end of this chapter :D**

**Hanging out on[Tumblr](http://filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/)!**

**Special shout out to[asfaloth12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asfaloth12), [SpyderzW3b](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderzW3b), [DreamingMymmeli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMymmeli), [kattybats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kattybats), [Bragrid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bragrid), [Lionsmane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane), [Finduilas88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas88), [Ruairi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruairi), [WithywindlesDaughter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter), [TawnyEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyEyes), [Milliegirl21](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliegirl21), [Jiri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiri), [beanie168](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beanie168), [Paintedsmile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedsmile), [dardragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dardragon), [WerewulfTherewulf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf), [Raekor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raekor), [Sidney90](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney90), [Bubbles759](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbles759), [confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [MatildaJohnson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaJohnson), [megavenger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megavenger), [sarahjhutch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch), [madbutterfly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly), [L_The_other_consulting_detective](http://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective), [cybersuzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cybersuzy), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan), [EmeraldJaded](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldJaded), [FirstLovexx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstLovexx), [Blueskydancers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers), [fkuz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fkuz), [mosslover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover), [xNamikaze](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xNamikaze), [ThornyHedge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge), and [narnia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narnia) as well as the 40 guests who've commented and kudosed, you guys are awesome!**

**As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien**

 

* * *

 

Many years later, when tales were told to children by the hearth late at night and songs were sung during feasts in the cavernous halls of Erebor, every dwarf would reminisce about the day the orcs came; the day that Azog the Defiler attempted to destroy the line of Durin and waged war on three of the greatest kingdoms in Middle Earth.

The tale would be told of how the three armies; elves, men and dwarves fought valiantly for their homelands and the desire to thwart evil from taking root in the world once more, but how they would soon become overrun, their blood mingling together on the stone beneath their feet and their numbers too small to defeat an endless army. Survivors would tell the younger generation how bravery became desperation to survive; that it was no longer about proving who was the greatest race of the three allies but a simple thought of fighting for their lives and homes or die trying.

They would tell of how hope was fading until a single cry echoed out across the ice at Ravenhill; a cry that grew to be a roar amongst the soldiers for it heralded the coming of the Eagles and they told of how their arrival changed the outcome of the war. How the appearance of the great Eagles and the lone skin changer brought renewed hope and energy to the weary men as they cut through the hoards of orcs, thus evening their chances and allowed them to swiftly gain the upper hand.

It was a tale that Kíli would listen to but would take no part in, for whilst the main war raged before the gates of Erebor he found himself racing up the stone stairs of the watch tower, Thorin directly in front of him as they sought to bring their golden lion home and end Azog once and for all.

 

* * *

 

As they neared the top of the tower Kíli couldn’t help but worry over the lack of resistance they had found the higher they climbed. The tunnels were empty save for the occasional stray Orc, and the silence was only broken by the scrape of their boots against stone. It was a trap if ever there was one, and with just a glance at his uncle when he stopped suddenly he knew it was his thought as well.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he murmured in Thorin’s ear, glancing behind them to ensure no Orcs had tried to sneak up on them.

“As do I, but there is nothing for it, we must find Azog and we MUST finish this.”

“But Fíli -”

“Kíli,” Thorin said sternly, placing a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder “our focus MUST be on Azog. I worry for your brother just as you do, but we have no chance of helping him if we allow that foul beast to live. I need you to pay attention no matter what you see in there, do you understand?” He looked at his nephew imploringly, and when he didn’t reply immediately Thorin gave him a little shake.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes Uncle,” Kíli whispered, his heart aching at the thought of not being able to check on Fíli the moment they found him. Thorin nodded, but as he went to turn away he saw the glistening of tears in the brunet’s eyes and instead he pressed their foreheads together gently.

“Fíli will be fine, I promise. He would never leave you Kíli; he loves you too much to do that.”

The young dwarf nodded, a shaky smile on his lips and he tightened his grip on his sword, nodding at Thorin who mirrored the action before they charged up the final few steps to the top of the tower and to their goal.

 

* * *

 

Thorin and Kíli burst through the archway at the top of the tower, their blades glinting in the firelight from the braziers around them and a snarl etched on their faces as they came face to face with the Defiler. Kíli’s eyes darted around the room, hoping to spot the golden hair he had known since birth nearby. And to his horror he found it,

At least

Some of it.

There, wrapped around the metal spikes of Azog’s claw were four blond braids held together by the silver beads that Kíli had forged for his One on his sixtieth name day, beads that had once been shinier than mithril were now spattered in blood and glinting dully in the flickering flames. He choked on a gasp, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest as he looked around and found no sign of his brother.

“No,” he breathed, his vision blurring at the edges as he watched the beads knock gently against one another as Azog shook them, laughing all the while. He was startled when Thorin let out a roar and charged at the Orc, fury mixed with anguish on his face at the implication of what those braids meant. He stood frozen, watching as Azog laughed tauntingly at Thorin when a flash of silver darted past him, and he watched in horror as Azog’s warg descended on the unsuspecting King, its mouth open wide.

“UNCLE LOOK OUT!”

His scream of warning was just enough; Thorin turned mid charge and he brought Orcist up to slash the foul beast across the face. A howl of fury reverberated off the stones before the Warg slammed into his uncle and sent him crashing into the wall behind him, the thud of his head as it collided with the stone heard by all.

“Thorin!”

Kíli let out his own roar of fury and charged, drawing the beast’s attention away from the crumpled form of his uncle and onto himself. He raised his sword high, sneering at the warg ready to kill it once and for all.

“KILL HIM!” Azog thundered.

The warg turned and leaped, its paws poised to pin the dwarf to the ground when Kíli rolled to the side, springing to his feet before charging again hoping to not only confuse the creature long enough so he could find an opening to kill it, but to also give Thorin enough time to recover whilst Azog and the warg were distracted.

But even good plans have their setbacks.

Kíli rolled away once more, wondering how long he could keep it up before the warg got him or he got too dizzy when Thorin yelled his name in terror. He whipped around in alarm, only to cry out in pain as Azog’s hand tangled in his hair and pulled him backwards, throwing him off balance. Before he could even recover the metal claw slammed into his shoulder making his entire arm go numb, his blade slipping from his fingers in surprise before he was dragged towards the open wall of the tower.

His fingers scrabbled for hold on the stone, desperately searching for anything he could hold onto when Azog’s boot slammed into his wrist making him scream as the bone cracked. Cradling the damaged wrist to his chest with his free hand the young dwarf offered little resistance as he was pulled by his hair to his knees, and he shuddered as the spikes of the claw trailed across his face.

“No!” Thorin cried, struggling to his feet and watching in horror as his nephew writhed at the feet of the defiler.

“Uncle! Help!” Kíli called desperately, crying out again as his head was yanked backwards exposing the tender flesh of his throat to the iron tips.

“I already destroyed one of your nephews Oakenshield” Azog growled, smirking at the dwarf king who couldn’t decide whether he wanted to come closer or not for fear of the claws finding purchase in the flesh beneath them.

“I’ve tasted the blood of your line this night, the lifeblood of your golden heir and how wonderfully he screamed for mercy before I ended him.”

“No” Kíli whimpered, his ears hearing but his heart refusing to believe that which was spoken.

Azog pulled on the hair until the dwarf was standing, laughing at the pained cry of denial that fell from both of them, not seeing the young dwarfs good hand inching it’s way to his belt.

“He lay broken and bleeding at my feet, clawing for breath, and now you can watch as the other is torn apart before you.”

Just as Azog moved to toss Kíli to his warg, Kíli slid one of the long bladed daggers Fíli had found for him from his belt and buried it in the orcs unprotected side. As Azog roared in pain he tore himself from his grasp and removed a second dagger, running and dropping to the ground as the warg leapt at him and stabbed the knife into its belly, gutting the beast as he slid across the wet floor, blood spraying his face and armour.

Thorin let out a roar and charged at Azog, Kíli pushing himself to his feet with a whimper as he put pressure on his broken wrist. He looked around and spotted his sword, sprinting towards it before charging back to help his uncle.

The young dwarf grit his teeth as both hands gripped the handle, the pain flaring in his wrist as he attacked. He refused to leave Thorin with Azog, knowing that just like him his uncle was tired and moving slower but with one of his hands struggling to keep a decent hold on the sword he wasn’t sure how much help he could be. He wasn’t ambidextrous, not like Fíli who would have had no problem if their roles had been reversed.

Ducking, blocking and striking, Thorin and Kíli worked together to confuse and tire the orc, the opponents circling around the small room as they fought in an attempt to corner their enemy. Just as Kíli thought they had the upper hand Thorin let out a grunt as the metal claw pierced his thigh and he yelped as the claw tossed him to the side, tearing the flesh as he went. Kíli raised his sword just in time, managing to block a blow from the sword that had been aimed at his neck. The force of it sent shockwaves down his sword and he gasped as he felt the tremors in his injured wrist.

Azog began laughing, pushing down and forcing Kíli to his knees as he tried to keep the sword away from his neck when the laugh turned into a choked grunt of shock. He watched as the tip of Thorin’s sword burst out from the middle of Azog’s chest, Thorin appearing over the orcs shoulder as he forced the creature to its knees. Before Azog could even think about harming him as a final act of vengeance he shoved himself away and out of the orcs reach, grinning at his uncle who nodded before twisting orcrist and pushing it home.

“Where is my nephew?” Thorin growled in Azog’s ear, twisting the blade more and eliciting a pained growl when he kept quiet.

“WHERE IS HE?!”

The orc laughed, blood gushing from his parted lips as he locked eyes with Kíli who stood before him, his final breath used to tell him two words.

“He’s dead.”

The black eyes closed and Azog the Defiler, the curse of Durin’s line, was ended.

Thorin withdrew Orcrist with a growl and refusing to make the same mistake twice he swung the blade, decapitating the orc to ensure he stayed dead. Both dwarves stood there panting heavily and staring at the head with satisfaction, watching as the black blood gushed from the neck onto the grey stone and pooled at their feet. It was silent up there, save for their heavy breathing and the faint ring of steel against steel from the battle still raging below.

Kíli flinched in surprise when Thorin suddenly let out a roar and kicked the head, sending it sailing from the tower onto the ice below. Before he could even ask why he had done it Thorin turned to look at him with fire in his eyes.

“Fíli is not dead. I will not believe it and I will not give up on him until I see him for myself.”

The relief he had felt when he had watched the light fade from Azog’s eyes came crashing down on him once more; Fíli was still missing and now their only hope of finding him was dead. His eyes darted around the room before they caught sight of the braids that had come loose from the claw and were now lying scattered on the ground. He hurried across the room, falling to his knees with a groan to scoop them up delicately with his good hand. As he looked at them closely he bit his lip in an effort to not cry out in anger at the bloodied flesh that held them together.

Refusing to leave even the slightest hint as to the pain the orc had caused his brother Kíli pocketed the braids, vowing to keep them safe so he could return the beads to their rightful owner.

Their owner who was alive somewhere because Kíli refused to believe Fíli was anything but.

It was as he stood that he noticed it, a large patch of snow that had undoubtedly formed after many a snowfall that sat near one of the broken walls to the tower. It wasn’t the snow itself that caught his attention, rather the droplets of red that led to the edge. Orcs, when they bled, bled black which reminded any who killed one of the corruption and evil that had spawned them which meant that the red had to belong to an non-orc; someone whose heart pumped healthy and strong as he fought off his attackers.

Someone like Fíli.

Without even realising he had moved Kíli found himself peering down at the ground beside the tower and he had to grab the wall to keep himself standing when he laid eyes on the still form below.

“Fee,” he breathed, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes as he looked at his brother’s still form outlined by snow. “FÍLI!”

The gasp in his ear told him Thorin was beside him, and he turned to see the colour draining from his face at the sight below them. A gentle pressure on his shoulder from his uncle’s hand spurred him onwards and the pair turned on their heel, sprinting down the stairs to the ground below.

 

* * *

 

Kíli’s steps faltered the moment they rounded the corner, his breath catching in his throat before he sprinted over and fell to his knees at his brother’s side. The blond dwarf had landed in a snowdrift, the snow having cushioned the impact when he sunk into the fluffy powder. The blond was still; his chest rising faintly as the blood slowly trickled from his numerous wounds.

“Fee?” Kíli whispered, his hands hovering over his brothers body uncertain of where he could touch without hurting him further. “Fee?”

Thorin dropped to his knees opposite the youngest, his shaking fingers pressing gently on the side of his oldest nephew’s neck and he exhaled shakily when he felt the wavering pulse.

A soft whimper of pain had both dwarves focusing on the blonde’s face in shock, their fragile hope growing stronger as Fíli’s eyes fluttered open. They watched his lips part, a bubble of blood spattering his lips with crimson as he swallowed several times in an effort to speak.

“Kee? Uncle?”

The question was but a whisper on the wind, his words so quiet they were almost missed.

“We’re right here Fíli,” Thorin said quietly, taking one of the still hands gently in his own. “We’re right here mê inùdoy.”

“Hurts, it hurts.”

“We know Fee, we know,” Kíli murmured, raising Fíli’s other hand and pressing his lips against his brothers fingers gently. He tried to ignore the fact that his fingers didn’t curl around his own, didn’t respond in anyway to the soft pressure that squeezed them. “You need to hold on ok? We need to get you help so you need to hang in there.”

“I couldn’t fight him,” Fíli continued on as though he hadn’t heard Kíli’s words, his eyes falling shut once more. “I let you both down, I am so sorry, forgive me uncle.”

“No Fíli, no,” Thorin said worriedly, his hand gently cupping the back of his nephew’s head, a thumb running across his brow in an attempt to sooth him. “There is nothing to forgive. You were brave my lion, so brave. You are a true son of Durin. I’m so proud of you.”

A single tear fell from Fíli’s eye, Thorin and Kíli both watching the drop glisten on the pale cheek before it slid down and mingled with the snow.

“Forgive me,” Fíli murmured, pain filled eyes cracking open once more as he tilted his head ever so slightly to focus on Kíli. “I failed you Âzyungel, I swore to stay by your side yet I cannot any longer.”

“No no no Fíli, you will be fine. Tis but a few scratches. We’ll stay together my love, just as we always planned.”

Kíli watched with a sinking horror as Fíli’s eye’s began to droop closed, a small smile on his lips as a drop of blood found its way out of his mouth and left a trail of red down his chin as he tried to find his breath.

“Farewell my love” he breathed. “I have never been more proud… to call you my brother… my One. You have shown me the stars… when all other lights went out… you have given me laughter… to brighten my life… you have given me love… I never deserved. I will always love you my Kee. Always.”

As the sounds of eagles crying filled the sky Kíli and Thorin watched in horror as Fíli went still, his head lolling to the side limply. Kíli looked down at his brother in horror before he scooped him up, holding him against his chest and barely noticing as Thorin leapt to his feet crying out for help from anyone that could hear. He pressed his forehead to his brother’s temple, his lips near his ear as he begged quietly.

“No no no Fíli don’t you dare, don’t you dare. Hold on Fee, hold on. The eagles are here see, they’re here. They- Fee?”

No response came, the blond shifting limply as Kíli shook his brother, sobbing as he did so.

“W-wake up Fíli, please!”

His tears mingled with the blood on his brother’s face, and Kíli watched as they dripped down onto the snow, together

Just like he and Fíli should have always been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Âzyungel – love of loves  
> Mê inùdoy - my son


	5. Together We Stand Upon The Edge Of A Knife

**A/N: Hello everyone! I know I know, finally an update! I do apologise for the delay but I wanted to get a chapter completed for each of my other two stories before I started publishing anything. So this is the last of my stories to be updated before I start the next round of chapters. HOWEVER! For those who read Time Apart you'll know all about this but for everyone else:**

**There will be a delay in any updates for my three stories for the next month or so as me being the muppet that I am has decided to do something incredibly stupid. Stupid being that due to me having my birthday at the end of May I've decided to follow in LittlestSecret's footsteps and am doing a birthday prompt fic, 22 stories for turning 22. You can find the instructions for it[here](http://filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/post/117234900735/jumping-on-the-birthday-prompt-fills-bandwagon), and if you want to send me a prompt flick me an ask over on [Tumblr](http://filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/ask) or in the comments section below. Please read the criteria for it, it's nothing major but just to give you an idea of the pairings I will fill so you aren't disappointed :)**

**I have 15 so far, so only another 7 to get! If you want a prompt filled you better get in quick. In the likelihood I don't quite reach 22 several of these prompts were meant for two different pairings so if I don't get anymore I'll repeat the specific prompt with different pairings :)**

**Special shout out to[ladylin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylin), [Tmlby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tmlby), [Daisyjayne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyjayne), [SunshineBlueeyesTanlines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineBlueeyesTanlines), [asfaloth12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asfaloth12), [SpyderzW3b](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderzW3b), [DreamingMymmeli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMymmeli), [kattybats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kattybats), [Bragrid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bragrid), [Lionsmane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane), [Finduilas88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas88), [Ruairi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruairi), [WithywindlesDaughter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter), [TawnyEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyEyes), [Milliegirl21](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliegirl21), [Jiri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiri), [beanie168](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beanie168), [Paintedsmile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedsmile), [dardragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dardragon), [WerewulfTherewulf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf), [Raekor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raekor), [Sidney90](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney90), [Bubbles759](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbles759), [confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [MatildaJohnson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaJohnson), [megavenger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megavenger), [sarahjhutch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch), [madbutterfly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly), [L_The_other_consulting_detective](http://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective), [cybersuzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cybersuzy), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan), [EmeraldJaded](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldJaded), [FirstLovexx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstLovexx), [Blueskydancers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers), [fkuz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fkuz), [mosslover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover), [xNamikaze](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xNamikaze), [ThornyHedge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge), and [narnia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narnia) as well as the 56 guests who've commented and kudosed, you guys are awesome!**

**As much as it breaks my heart I do not own the writings or the characters of The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings, they are the wonderful and exclusive workings of J.R.R Tolkien**

 

* * *

 

The snow swirled around the two forms huddled on the ground; a dark head hunched over its blond counterpart as tears slipped down warm cheeks onto the still form below.

Kíli cradled his One against his chest, his forehead pressed against his brothers as he sobbed, the wind rising and falling in its own forlorn melody. The moment Fíli had gone still Thorin had leapt to his feet, screaming for help as he raced around the edge of the tower to where he knew Dwalin and Bilbo to be, leaving him behind

Just like Fíli.

A cry of his name nearly lost on the wind had his ears pricking but he didn’t shift, choosing instead to trail his fingers gently across his brother’s face; feather light touches brushing away his tears whilst mapping out the features he knew by heart but would never get to feel again when he was laid to rest, forever trapped under marble and stone.

“KÍLI!”

He frowned when his name was called once more; whoever it belonged to wasn’t his uncle. He looked up, his heart physically aching as he took his eyes off of his brother for just a moment, trying to focus through the snow and tears that made them sting painfully. Two forms were running towards him, racing across the snow and ice as though it didn’t exist and it was the flaming red hair one of them possessed that gave them away.

_Tauriel?_

He watched them draw closer, his eyes and heart devoid of any emotion except pain before he turned back to the body in his arms; his forehead resting against Fíli’s as he pressed his lips against his brothers softly. He was tired, his body, heart and mind ached with a pain so deep and raw that all he wanted to do was curl up at his brothers side and wait until the cold claimed him, until it drew him into an endless sleep where he could walk through their Makers halls in search of his One; knowing that when he found him he would never let him go again.

“Kíli!”

He barely moved as Tauriel fell to her knees besides him, only blinking sluggishly when her warm hands cupped his face and turned it towards her. Her presence broke something inside of him, as though the warmth from her hands was seeping into his skin and flooding his body with life, with emotion,

And oh how it  _hurt_.

“Mellon-nin are you alright?!”

He watched fear filled eyes search his face, watched them widen even more at the tears that began rolling down his cheeks.

“Tauriel…”

If it wasn’t for their heightened hearing Kíli knew they would never have heard his whimper; not over the wind, and certainly not over the sobs that drowned it out immediately after. His anguish spilled free, cast in front of her and her blond companion raw and vulnerable as he cried, his fingers clutching his brother to his chest desperately. How do you explain to someone your world, your very reason for existing has left you behind? How do you explain the only escape from the pain that is tearing you up inside at watching your One die in your arms is through your own death, freeing your soul from your body so that it can make its way to the side of its other half, to curl and twist around it so any who looked upon you would have no way of telling where one ended and the other began?

Watching the young dwarf break down in the face of such grief cracked something inside of her. Glancing at Legolas and seeing her concern echoed back Tauriel removed her hands from Kíli’s face to cup his brother’s. She closed her eyes, crying out in shock and immediately withdrew her hands as though burned.

“He has not yet left you Kíli,” Tauriel gasped, “but he needs help or I fear he will be beyond our reach to save.”

She ignored Kíli’s choked cry of relief and desperate attempts to wake his brother as she shuffled closer; laying her hands on the pale cheeks once more and began to chant frantically. A hand gripped her shoulder, its presence familiar and comforting as Legolas added his own voice to hers in the hopes of drawing the blond swordsman back from the brink of death.

“Kíli!”

The young dwarf looked up, a wild look in his eye as he watched his uncle sprint towards him with Beorn, Dwalin and Bilbo following close behind before turning back to Tauriel once more. His brother was alive; barely clinging to life yet with every word chanted he felt warmth trickle into his brother’s skin a little more. He watched, breath catching in his throat as she withdrew her hands before turning to face him, a small smile on her face as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I have done what I can to keep him here. It is not much but it may be the only hope he has.”

He nodded jerkily, as though his mind couldn’t quite understand what was happening but knew he needed to agree anyway.

“What are you doing here?!”

He started at his uncle’s furious snarl, looking up to see a sword in his hand as he glared at the elves. Tauriel stood gracefully, her hand brushing Legolas’s as she stood in front of him, ever the captain of the guard.

“Listen and listen well Thorin Oakenshield,” Tauriel said; her face calm and tone urgent despite the sword pointed at her. “Your nephew lives yet, however if we do not get him to a healer I fear what we have done to keep his spirit tethered to his body will have been for naught. He needs help, and quickly.”

She turned to Beorn, inclining her head at the skin changer who nodded in reply. “Beorn, you are faster and stronger than any of us and Fíli is in dire need of help. Will you take him to the healers?”

Kíli focused his tear filled eyes on the skin changer; his normally dark brown eyes shining with hope and fear for his brother’s fate. “Please,” he begged, “please help him. I cannot lose him, not now.”

Instead of answering the giant of a man moved forwards, scooping the limp blond into his arms with an unexpected gentleness for one his size. As he straightened up he pursed his lips, letting out three sharp whistles that rang across the ice and the small group watched as one of the great eagles descended from above. It landed just out of reach, its head swivelling to watch them warily.

Beorn stepped forwards, Fíli still cradled in his arms as he spoke with the creature in a hushed voice. The eagle dipped its head once and the skin changer stepped back, shifting his burden in his arms as the creature opened its wings, taking to the sky once more but before Kíli could cry out in dismay at the birds’ departure it returned with another in tow.

The new arrival landed nearby, its claws clacking against the ice loudly as the other hovered above Beorn; extending its leg and closing its talons around the dwarf before plucking him from the skin changers hold and taking to the sky to head towards Erebor.

“The Eagle will see your companion gets to your healers. Go now with the other, I shall take care of matters here.” And with that Beorn was gone, shifting into the bear as he ran back the way they’d come in order to chase down any Orcs attempting to escape.

Not quite knowing how he got there Kíli found himself on the back of the second eagle, Thorin in front of him and Bilbo and Dwalin behind. The young dwarf watched as Tauriel spoke to the bird in the tongue of her people before bowing and stepping away.

“We will find you,” she swore as she turned to the small group, shooting the worried archer a soft smile as the eagle unfolded its wings. “As soon as we gather the proof for our king Azog and his spawn are dead we will join you. Go now.”

With a shrill cry the Eagle beat its wings, lifting them into the air as it followed its companion back to the Lonely Mountain.

 

* * *

 

Despite leaving after its companion their Eagle was the first to arrive at the tents that had been erected at the base of the mountain, Kíli sliding down beside his uncle when they landed on the outskirts of the canvas settlement. Raising his head he looked to the sky and searched anxiously for the Eagle that carried his brother, wondering what had delayed the creature enough to keep his brother from the care he so urgently needed.

“Thorin!”

The small group turned to the call and there was a collective sigh at the sight of Balin, Oin and Dain hurrying towards them, flecks of blood and the occasional scratch marring their skin but all very much alive.

“It’s good to see you laddie,” Balin exclaimed when they stopped in front of the group. “No one had seen you for some time and we were beginning to fear the worst-”

“Is it over? Fer good this time?” Dain asked, interrupting the snow haired dwarf but to Kíli’s surprise Balin seemed unfazed by it, instead looking at Thorin attentively.

“Aye,” Thorin agreed with a relieved sigh. “It’s over. Azog and Bolg are dead, we made sure of it.” He glanced at the small group, pride and exhaustion heavy in his voice.

“Where’s Fíli?” Oin asked suddenly as he looked around the small group, the tell-tale blond hair of the crown prince markedly absent.

The silence was deafening, and the relief and joy on the faces of the newest arrivals fell to looks of pain and grief.

“Oh lad,” Balin said softly as he stepped forwards, his hands coming to rest on Thorin and Kíli’s shoulders gently, “I’m so sor-”

A cry from above had Kíli whipping around in relief; his hand shading his eyes from the sun as the Eagle who had carried them took off only to have another descend, hovering above the ground just enough so it could place its burden on the blood stained soil gently.

Thorin was on the ground beside Fíli in the blink of an eye, his fingers pressing against the unmarked flesh of his nephew’s throat and he choked on a relieved sob at the faint fluttering beneath his fingertips.

“Thank Mahal,” Thorin gasped, looking up as Oin hurried over. “He’s still with us.”

“I need a stretcher here immediately!” The old healer yelled at two dwarves lingering at the edge of the encampment, receiving a nod before he turned back to examine the wounded dwarf in front of him.

The pinched lips and furrowed brow told Kíli all he needed to know. Oin rarely showed concern about an injury unless it was something to truly be worried about, and the look on his face said more than words ever could.

His brother was in bad shape.

Really bad shape.

The dwarves returned quickly and together Dwalin, Thorin and the two soldiers eased their unconscious prince onto the stretcher, the two dwarves lifting it carefully and hurrying towards the tent Oin had set up specifically for the company with the rest of the group close behind.

 

* * *

 

Kíli watched as his brother disappeared behind the tent flap and went to follow when a hand on his chest stopped him. He glared at Oin, moving forwards again only to be given a gentle but firm push.

“Oin,” he growled, ears straining for any distressed noises from his One.

“No laddie,” Oin said kindly, the hand moving from his chest to his shoulder. “Your brother is in a bad way and I want no distractions when I examine him. If he survives he’s going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes and I want to give him the best chance of an easy recovery that I can, but I can’t do that with you hovering and worrying. You have injuries that need tending to, you all do,” he said as he looked at Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo “so I want you to go to the royal tent that’s been set up and I will send a healer along to tend to you. When I’ve finished here I’ll send for you, you have my word.”

He wanted to argue, wanted to tell Oin that his place was with his soulmate and he would not be separated from him; not when he could wake up frightened or, in a reality he refused to even think about, when he could take his last breath. But the resolute look in the healer’s eye and the steady arm Thorin had placed around him broke his resolve so he allowed himself to be led away silently, throwing a defeated and heartbroken look over his shoulder to the tent that hid his brother from view as Oin disappeared inside.

It was a short walk to the tent Dain had had erected but the distance, although small, weighed heavily on Kíli’s mind. Every step further away from Fíli was like digging harder into an open wound; the raw nerves being poked and prodded to send spasms throughout his body the longer and further he was from his One.

Just as the pain became too unbearable the noises of the outside world diminished, and blinking slowly Kíli found himself standing in the middle of a large tent; several cots covered in luxurious furs and pillows, a desk and a chair lined the edge with a table and portable fireplace in the middle. How they had brought them and where the Ironhill’s soldiers had stored them during the battle Kíli would’ve liked to know, but he found that for the time being he could care little about anything except a particular blond whose fate was currently shrouded in uncertainty.

He allowed Thorin to steer him to one of the cots, falling into it heavy and despite the pain in his heart he released a soft sigh at finally being able to sit comfortably since the battle began. The voices of the others washed over him like water on rocks; the soft murmurings lulling his exhausted body into a restless doze as thoughts of his brother flashed through his mind. Memories of happier times where he sat in Fíli’s lap, looking down at the kiss bitten lips from devouring his brothers mouth bled into images of Fíli gasping for breath in his arms before passing out, memories of his brother training, his body glistening with sweat as he shot the younger a smirk shifted into the sight of him unconscious whilst being dangled over the edge of the tower as Azog stood behind him laughing.

“Oh Kíli.”

Thorin’s gentle voice accompanied by the warmth from the hand that cupped his cheek had him looking up, and it was his blurry vision that told him he had been crying silently. He bit back a sob as Thorin crouched in front of him, the older dwarf wincing slightly as his injuries protested the movement and the moment his Uncle was level with him he threw he arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder.

“Breathe Gimlith, just breathe. Fíli will pull through this you’ll see.”

“I c-can’t lose h-him uncle-”

“And you won’t Kíli. He’s a fighter, and he would  _never_  leave you behind. You are both far too stubborn to be separated.”

The hand that stroked his back gave him something to focus on, the steady rhythm and the smell of smoke and iron that he had always associated with safe helped him to calm his breathing enough until only the occasional hitch was heard. He dug his fingers into the leather, unwilling to let go even when Thorin shifted slightly and only pulled back when Thorin whispered in his ear he wasn’t leaving, but that he’d prefer to sit on the bed beside him for fear of being stuck in a crouch if his knees locked.

The young dwarf pulled back with a sniffle, waiting until Thorin had settled beside him before burrowing into his side. It was something he hadn’t done since he was a dwarfling but right now he didn’t care; he needed the comfort his uncle’s presence brought to try and keep his mind off what could be happening in the other tent.

Something, it seemed, he would be going through also.

He looked up when someone cleared their throat and found that two dwarves had arrived, healing supplies in their arms and weary looks on their faces.

“It is good to see you alive Sire,” one of the dwarves addressed Thorin after bowing to Dain. “Master Oin sent us here to examine and treat any injuries you or your companions may have.”

Thorin nodded, pressing a kiss to Kíli’s head before standing and waving them over, moving to a separate cot as he did so to allow the healers to examine them without interference.

It was a long task, yet one Kíli knew had to occur all the same. After much poking, prodding and pained groans the healers deemed them free to move around, after warning them sternly to take it easy for a few weeks for whilst their injuries were few some were still severe.

The three dwarves and Bilbo were littered with cuts, several requiring stitches whilst others only needed to be kept clean and aired to heal well. Thorin had a mild concussion from where his head had collided with the stone wall and puncture wounds where Azogs claw had pierced his thigh, the healer deciding the King would use a cane to take the pressure off it until it had healed unless he wished to walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Kíli remembered with painful clarity that Azog had cracked the bone in his wrist when the healer moved it after noticing some swelling, and sat impatiently whilst a splint and bandage were used to stop it from moving.

Neither healer had been surprised the two dwarves had forgotten about their injuries, after all, the adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins not an hour before would have numbed the pain enough for them to forget about what they had put their bodies through. Now that they were out of danger and sitting down it appeared to be wearing off, which in turn made the pain all the more obvious.

“You are not to use that hand until it has healed lad, you hear me?” Kíli’s healer said sternly as he secured a sling around the prince’s neck. “If you want to be able to shoot again that wrist needs to heal, and it can only do that if it’s not put under stress constantly.”

Thorin chuckled quietly at the groan that slipped from his nephew’s lips, opening his own to reassure him that it was not the end of the world when Oin entered the tent, hovering near the opening as he looked at the occupants.

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” He asked, bowing to Thorin and Dain when he spotted them.

“Not at all Oin,” Thorin reassured him as he waved him inside. “I believe these healers have finished their work.”

Oin nodded and moved to the centre of the tent, inclining his head at the two dwarves and Dain as they left; well aware of the eyes of the youngest prince watching him like a hawk.

Thorin stood and moved back to his nephew’s side, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his knee, both in comfort and to stop it from the constant bounce it had started doing the moment Oin had arrived. Once Kíli had stilled Thorin looked back to their healer, noticing as he did so that Dwalin, Balin and Bilbo had taken seats and fixed Oin with stares that demanded answers also.

The old dwarf took a deep breath as he wiped a hand across his forehead tiredly, holding his trumpet to his ear and falling into a chair as he looked at the King with sombre eyes. “We have done all that we can Thorin, but, there are no guarantees that Fíli will make it through the night.”

A stunned silence was his response, Thorin wrapping an arm around his nephew as Kíli’s good hand clutched his tunic tightly. The healer continued his report, watching the young brunet sadly as he did so.

“ _If_  he survives the night then he should stand a chance at pulling through this, but it will not be without incident nor difficulty.”

“Wha’ injuries does the lad have?” Dwalin asked gruffly when it seemed Thorin and Kíli were unable to talk.

Oin sighed, running a hand over his hair as he thought. “To start with his leg is in a bad way; it’s been broken in several places and the muscle in his thigh is badly damaged. From what we could tell as we were sowing it back together Azog’s mutt looks to have used it as a chew toy. It’s not pretty and if it’s not treated properly he stands a very real chance of losing it, especially to infection. He has a nasty burn on his right arm; we had to slice away bits of flesh to get the rest of the vambrace off as his skin had melded to it with the heat. He has a broken hip, several broken ribs, his collarbone is shattered and his right shoulder was dislocated. On top of that he has a punctured lung which I’d bet my trumpet happened when the puncture wounds in his back were made.”

He sighed, noting the sick expressions on his friend’s faces and contemplated getting some ginger crystals for them all but knew he had one last thing to tell them, and it wasn’t going to be a pleasant one.

“Thorin those punctures; they were all very close to his spine. In fact the swelling and bruising around them is making it difficult to determine exactly where they were made-”

“What does that mean?” Kíli asked in alarm.

Oin looked at his young prince sadly. “It means that depending on how close they were to his spine there’s a high chance he may never walk again, especially if we can’t get rid of the infection that’s already set in.”

Kíli broke down, hysterical sobs wrenching through his chest and Thorin did his best to comfort his nephew as he fought back his own tears. Fíli was strong he knew, but he had no idea whether he’d be strong enough to fight something like this.

“Have the elves been asked to help?” Bilbo spoke up for the first time since they’d arrived at the tent.

Oin shook his head, turning to address the Halfling.

“Nay lad,” he said. “The moment I could leave him I came straight here like I’d promised. The other healers with him are likely to be still be stitching him up and setting the splints.”

“Find the elves.” Thorin stated, his hand still buried in Kíli’s hair as he was held against his chest. “Find Thranduil. Do whatever you have too to save him.”

“Thranduil won’t come willingly,” Balin reasoned as he tapped his chin in thought.

“Aye that woodland sprite wouldn’t come without a price or favour as reward.” Dwalin growled as he began to pace.

Thorin nodded, already anticipating the issues asking Thranduil for help would bring. “Balin, go into the mountain to the treasury. Find the gems of Lasgalen, bring them with you as a down payment. Tell him that it is a simple offering and a plea not from a King but an Uncle who wishes to save his nephew. There will be compensation for his help and for what his people have lost today, the same goes for Bard and Dain. Take Gloin, Bofur, Bifur and Dori with you to assess what the conditions of the mountain are like; winter is setting in and the wounded stand no chance out in the cold. We need rooms we can move them to as a temporary infirmary and accommodations for the non-injured.”

“Aye laddie,” Balin said with a small smile at the clarity and strength in Thorin’s eyes once more. “I shall see it done.”

“Take Bilbo with you.”

Kíli’s quiet voice had them all turning to him with curiosity plain on their faces.

“Bilbo has dealt with them both before,” he reasoned, “they are likely to be more willing to trust and listen to him than any of us.”

The hobbit blushed at the implication of the dealings he’d had with Thranduil and Bard but Thorin only nodded, a smile on his tired face as he looked at the Halfling.

“Aye, Bilbo shall be tasked with assisting in negotiations. If anyone can keep a group of elven, dwarf and human rulers in check it is him.”

Balin bowed and left the tent, Bilbo following after giving the pair a small wave. Once they were gone Kíli turned back to Oin, wiping away the tears in his eyes and getting to his feet.

“I wish to see my brother. If tonight is to be his last then I will be by his side until the very end. I would have him know my love was surrounding him as he went to our Makers halls.”

Oin looked hesitant, knowing how important it was to Kíli but at the same time not wanting him to get in the way should anything happen. A nod from Thorin however made the decision for him.

“Aye lad,” he said quietly.

“I don’t think I could keep either of you apart for long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mellon-nin - my friend  
> Gimlith - star that is young


	6. A Light In The Darkness

**A/N: Hello! So yeah this hasn't been updated since May... and for that I am terribly sorry! First I got stuck on those birthday prompts, then I had some other ideas pop up that demanded attention and this kinda got lost in the shuffle. Never fear however, it is back to being a priority story! One that I hope, no I _know_ will have regular updates because eight months is inexcusable (my standards for myself anyway). Hopefully I haven't lost all my readers for this and you all enjoy the chapter, sadly for Fili things will be getting worse before they get better that's for sure.**

**Lila my dear, your one request for this story was Fili naked except for a small towel. I hope this was what you wanted ;)**

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* * *

 

Growing up Kíli had been exposed to one or two executions over time, his status as royalty forcing him to attend the punishment of thieves and bandits convicted for their crimes against the his people and the crown. He was a hunter, and so had watched them with a curious fascination, noting the looks on their faces as they were marched to their deaths. The clenched jaws, the sweaty brows, the eyes darting around in hope of some kind of fate other than the one they currently walked towards.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how they felt.

Each step was like walking with shackles around his ankles, weighed down the closer he got to the tent under heavy guard; the structure that currently separated him and his brother by nothing more than a thin strip of canvas.

He didn’t know what he’d find, and honestly didn’t want to know. The thought of laying eyes on the injuries Oin had briefly described was enough to make his stomach churn, and here he was about to see them for himself.

All he wished was that he had the ability to go back in time to strike off the fate that had been carved into stone and chosen for his One, wished he could rewrite what had befallen Fili so that his encounter with Azog never happened.

Feet stumbled on the pebbled ground and a warm hand latched onto his shoulder to keep him steady as they stopped outside the tent, and for a moment all he wanted was to turn tail and run, run as far and as long as his legs would carry him if it meant hiding from the truth, pretending that all was fine and everything that had happened had been one big nightmare.

But he couldn’t.

A tilt of the head in acknowledgement by the guards and softly exchanged words that held no meaning was all that remained before they stepped aside, the last barrier falling away as the flap was drawn open to reveal a gaping cavern within.

It was like walking into another world. Outside the tent screams of the wounded and grieving rent the air, the acrid smell of blood, metal and fire heavy like smog upon the tented refuge and smothering everything in its path.

But inside was different. The moment the flap fell into place behind them all noise of the horrors outside cut out as though absorbed by the canvas, protecting the healers and the slowly fading soul from the reminders of what had occurred that day. 

The furnishings of the tent were sparse; a wooden table was strewn with bowls of potions, rolls of bandages and jars of poultices, a few chairs shoved haphazardly against the edges so they were out of the way and in the centre of the organised chaos, a sturdy wooden bed the healers moved around, muttering between themselves as they worked and lit more candles to try and chase away the darkness.

Kíli approached tentatively, making sure to stay out of the healers’ way should they need to continue their tasks. Looking down at the bed his breath hitched in his throat at the still form before him that held similarities to his brother, the one he had worshiped and made desperate love to only hours before. He swallowed heavily against the grief that threatened to drown him as he looked over each and every injury that marred Fíli’s skin, whining in distress when he was met with more wounds than unmarked flesh.

Fíli lay naked aside from a light towel over his lap to maintain his dignity, and Kíli knew the reason for leaving his brother’s body bare was to allow the healers easy access to the wounds when they needed to change his dressings, as well as keep unnecessary pressure off of them. His skin, once golden and firm was ashen; where it wasn’t ruined by the thick black stitches holding him together or already blood and pus stained bandages it was a sickly grey that made Fíli look more like a ghost than a living dwarf. The once molten gold hair that he loved running his fingers through was limp and faded, tied in a messy knot at the top of his head to stop the strands from catching in the open wounds. His brow was damp, rivulets of sweat trickling down as his body fought off infection and fever that had already set in.

 But what was most concerning of all was that Fili didn’t move, didn’t react at all to those hovering around him in any way. If not for the soft rise and fall of his chest Kíli would have thought his brother dead.

One of the healers moved towards the bed with a cloth and bowl of steaming water in his grasp and Kíli held out his hand silently, raising an eyebrow when the healer hesitated.

“Give it to him,” Thorin told the dwarf quietly and making Kíli jump. He’d forgotten the others were in the tent with him.

With a nod the healer waited for the young dwarf to collect a chair before handing over his burden, instructing him in a quiet voice where not to clean and where to focus his attentions on before taking his leave.

Despite his best efforts Kíli couldn’t get his hand to stop shaking, terrified that even the slightest touch to his One’s skin would have him screaming in agony. But Fíli remained oblivious, and Kíli wasn’t sure whether to count it as a blessing or a curse.

Thorin took his own chair and joined Kíli on the opposite side of the cot, placing a small pile of bandages on a spare piece of mattress while Oin began checking the injuries over.

“Most of these already require changing,” the healer tutted, worry marring his tired face. “I won’t lie to you Kíli for you don’t deserve false hope; I fear for your brother. His injuries…” he shook his head as he searched for the right words to describe what he had had to put, and sometimes piece, back together not long ago. “Let’s just say they would have already killed a lesser dwarf.”

Blinking back tears the young dwarf nodded dejectedly, and was infinitely grateful for the large hand of his uncle’s the covered his own, squeezing ever so gently. “We will do our best Kee,” Thorin told him. “With luck Thranduil is on his way, and as much as I hate to deny it the skills of the elves far outweigh our own. Fíli will fight this tooth and nail for you, of that I have no doubt.”

With a nod to Oin who fetched new salves Thorin began unwrapping the bandage nearest to him, swallowing heavily at the sight of mangled flesh that was slowly revealed.

“Oh Fíli,” he breathed, tears prickling in his own eyes. Of all of the dwarves on the quest Fíli, Kíli and Ori were the last ones who should have been exposed to the horrors war could bring and yet two of the three had been thrust into the thick of things, and were in no way better for it. His decisions, both good and bad were coming back to haunt him and he was now faced with the very real possibility of losing one of them, two, if Kíli allowed his grief to consume him. He couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t lose either of his boys, but with the state Fíli was in he wasn’t sure how much he would be able to do.

Instead he said, “Clean carefully around his wounds Nûlukhel, the less we strain them the better.” Normally Kíli would snap that he knew what he was doing, would say he knew his brother better than he did (which he was grateful he didn’t know Fíli that intimately) but his nephew remained quiet, nodding almost unconsciously as he did exactly as instructed. Concerned but unable to do anything else for Kíli for the time being he turned to his two friends who had remained silent since they’d left the previous tent. “Dwalin, sit him up carefully.”

They started on Fíli’s upper body, working their way from his chest to his waist with feather-light touches; Kíli wiping away any visible blood, pus or dirt, Oin applying fresh salves in copious amounts in the hopes it might lessen the need for constant changes then Thorin wrapping fresh bandages around the wounds. While Dwalin held Fíli securely yet gently Balin worked diligently as well; fetching fresh water and cloths and new bandages as they ran out or became dirtied.

The first time Thorin had shuffled around to sit beside Dwalin to get to Fíli’s back he’d had to bite back the need to scream and call for the blood of every orc that still existed. The puncture wounds where Azog’s claw had pierced through his nephews back were an angry red and weeping, even with the sutures puckering the skin as they held them closed. It was with a sickening clarity that he realised Oin’s fears for Fíli were true, that the blond might be unable to walk should the damage be too severe and he prayed to every deity listening to spare his nephew a fate as cruel as the one he currently hovered before.

Hiding his feelings had always been something he’d been good at; the ability to disguise his amusement in the face of his nephew’s trouble making and utter boredom in council meetings had worked well over the years. But seeing Fíli’s injuries, seeing his precious nephew lying there in Dwalin’s arms looking so small and broken had shattered his self-control.

Unfortunately for him, Kíli noticed.

His reaction to seeing Fíli’s back had Kíli furrowing his brow and he abandoned his task before moving so he could see as well, only to let out a whine of despair at the mutilated sight before him.

“Oh Fee,” he whimpered, trembling fingers ghosting over the wounds. “What have they done to you Âzyungel?”

“Come Kíli,” Thorin said quietly, “let us finish.”

Kíli swallowed thickly but nodded and went back to his task silently, blinking away the tears that began welling and swiped them away angrily when stray ones escaped.

They finished the rest of their task in silence, each dwarf lost to their thoughts and prayers for their injured prince. Oin appeared as Thorin secured the last of the bandages with a steaming mug that smelled strongly of herbs.

“I need to get this into him,” the healer informed them. “It will keep him asleep but it will also help fight off the infection.”

Together Oin, Dwalin and Thorin got the unconscious dwarfs mouth open and the drink down his throat, small portions at a time as they rubbed his throat to make him swallow reflexively. It was a long process but finally it was done, and soon Fíli was lying as comfortably as they could make him in his cot once more.

The other dwarves moved from the blond’s bedside, stretching their aching limbs and quietly discussing their concerns for their prince. But not Kíli. The brunet shuffled closer and took his brother’s hand in his own, one of the few places that managed to remain relatively undamaged. “Wake up Amralimê, please,” he begged quietly. “Come back to m-me.”

Beside his best attempts to stay strong he broke down, tears streaming down his face and splashing onto the pale skin below. He leaned forwards, pressing his trembling lips against his brother's gently. “I love you Fee,” he whispered, pressing their foreheads together carefully. “I love you. Please don’t go where I can’t follow.”

So focused he was on his lover that the feeling of a gentle hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he looked up into his uncle’s sorrow-filled eyes.

“Kíli-”

Before Thorin could speak the tent flap opened drawing the attention of the occupants who turned to see Bilbo, followed by Thranduil stride inside.

Thorin pulled away with a final squeeze to his nephew’s shoulder, drawing himself to his full height as he bowed his head courteously.

“King Thranduil, I appreciate you agreeing to see me when you have wounded of your own to care for.”

The elf-king’s ice blue eyes watched calculatingly, and it was all Thorin could do to stop himself from bristling at the scrutiny he found himself under.

“I will not deny how surprised I was to learn you survived the battle,” Thranduil replied unemotionally. “Let alone a fight against Bolg and Azog, if the reports of my son and captain are to be believed.”

“What, yer think the line o’ Durin is so easily slaughtered?!” Dwalin spat, stepping in front of his king furiously. “Yer think scum like them could kill ‘em?”

A dark eyebrow rose at the burly dwarf. “It would not be the first time they tried and were successful,” Thranduil told him dryly. “And I’m sure it won’t be the last.” Piercing eyes flicked past them all to the unconscious form on the bed briefly before moving back to Thorin. “You requested my presence, what is it you want?”

 Ignoring the reminder of the ones he’d lost to the hand of Azog as well as the one he might still lose Thorin moved to the side, angling his body slightly so he could motion to Fili without breaking eye contact. “Your help,” he replied simply. “To heal my nephew.”

“And why should I?” The elf king asked, bordering on a sneer. “Why should I care about one injured dwarf?”

Kíli stood; a look of desperation on his face as he addressed the king. “Please,” he begged, “please help my brother. He didn’t deserve what Azog did to him, he didn’t deserve torture! Please, Fíli has always seen the best in people, he has a kind heart and will one day make a great king, one you will be glad to call your ally. And I – I can’t lose him, I can’t…”

“I know there is no love lost between our people,” Thorin continued when Kíli trailed off. “But Kíli is right. Young he may be but Fíli has the makings of a great king, better than Thror ever was, and better than I can ever hope to be. I ask of you, no, beg of you. Please, save my nephew.”

Thranduil looked at Thorin for a long time before speaking, and when he finally did so his voice wasn’t as cold as what they expected. “And what do I get out of it?” he asked. “A promise for a potential good ruler? You will forgive me if I don’t find that reason enough to try and save him.”

“Your jewels are on their way here as we speak,” Thorin bartered, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “I do not ask you to save him in their exchange; it is purely as a sign of goodwill. However the offer I made with the people of Laketown before we reclaimed Erebor will stand, their people will be assisted in rebuilding their homes, their lives, and I will extend that to your people, offer whatever you need in exchange for your help in saving him.”

“Why? Why offer jewels and gold? Your kind is known for their love of riches. Why should I believe you?”

“Because after coming so close to losing both I realise now that mere trinkets mean nothing when compared to my nephews lives.”

The elven King stood unmoving, silent, and Thorin began to wonder if he had failed to sway him, failed to show him his plea was sincere. Unfortunately he had nothing left to offer that might convince the elven King to save his heir, and it was with a heavy heart that he bowed his head in defeat, turning away as he did so to pull Kíli to him when the young brunet began to weep silently.

Thranduil watched the air of defeat sweep over the tent, over Thorin and his young nephew. This was a different side to Thorin, one which he’d never seen before in the few encounters they’d had in the past. The dwarven King he’d encountered before the battle, mad with gold and power was gone, and in its place a grieving and broken uncle stood in its place.

It was the sight of the true Thorin Oakenshield that made the decision for him.

“Very well,” he uttered quietly to the group at large. “I make no promises but I will do what I can for your kin.”

Striding forward with a grace that hid his weariness Thranduil made his way to the blond prince, eyes examining the extent of the damage and he had to admit that he was surprised one so young had survived so much hurt.

“His spirit lingers,” he said eventually, his fingers ghosting over the dwarf’s face and feeling the weak pulse of life that clung to his body. “I do not know if I can save him, but I will do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Kíli breathed sincerely. “I’ll take what I can get.”

With a nod Thranduil stood, finger tapping against his chin thoughtfully for but a moment before he came to a decision. “If you’ll excuse me I must go fetch several of my healers. This isn’t a task to be undertaken alone and I will need the right medicines if we are to be successful.”

“Would you like some help my Lord?” Bilbo asked from where he had been standing silently in the corner.

“Any assistance would be greatly appreciated Master Baggins,” the elf agreed with a tilt of his head. “I trust you know of most of the plants my people use in their healing?”

Bilbo nodded, hands in his pockets and rocking back on his feet slightly as he did so. “I believe I do, yes. Tell me what you need and where to find it and I will do my best.”

The King nodded and made his way for the flap, turning to look back at the dwarves behind him. “It would be best if there was fresh water, both hot and cold waiting for us when we return,” he told them. “My healers will need to mix up their remedies as soon as they get here for we have little time to lose.”

For if they waited much longer the strength with which the young dwarf held on would fail, and he would be lost to them forever.


	7. Black As Ink, Cold As Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a set back, and Kili begins to realise that he may lose his brother for good.

**A/N: Hello and welcome back! Ha, not too long between updates this time thankfully! :D This was actually meant to be longer but I decided to split the chapters as it felt like it would flow better. Plus it means I have most of chapter 8 written. Hooray!**

**I can't think of much to say about this, only that Fili is still in pretty bad shape and may or may not get better anytime soon. Only time will tell!**

**A huge thanks to[bindsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bindsy), [stephaniejoiner1061](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniejoiner1061), [GimmeDatElephant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GimmeDatElephant), [hdburke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hdburke), [DancingInTheRain](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingInTheRain), [tiggy4](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggy4), [eyesonly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly), [islandkate](http://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate), [BlackberrySage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackberrySage), [Makojupiter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Makojupiter), [ShadowOfHapiness](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowOfHapiness), [Calic0cat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Calic0cat), [bammes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bammes), [delank_89](http://archiveofourown.org/users/delank_89), [injerannie94](http://archiveofourown.org/users/injerannie94), [stonkia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stonkia), [Destiny101](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny101), [bloatedblond](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bloatedblond), [waterlilyblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlilyblue), [Januarytale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarytale), [Silva_13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13), [SaucyWench](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench), [Shay_Moonsilk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk), [ladylin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylin), [Tmlby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tmlby), [Daisyjayne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyjayne), [SunshineBlueeyesTanlines](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineBlueeyesTanlines), [asfaloth12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asfaloth12), [SpyderzW3b](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderzW3b), [DreamingMymmeli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMymmeli), [kattybats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kattybats), [Bragrid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bragrid), [Lionsmane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane), [Finduilas88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas88), [Ruairi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruairi), [WithywindlesDaughter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter), [TawnyEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyEyes), [Milliegirl21](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliegirl21), [Jiri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiri), [beanie168](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beanie168), [Paintedsmile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedsmile), [dardragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dardragon), [WerewulfTherewulf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf), [Raekor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raekor), [Sidney90](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney90), [Bubbles759](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbles759), [confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [ and 15 more users ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3338429/kudos) as well as the 85 guests who've commented and kudosed, you guys are awesome! :D**

 

* * *

 

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief the moment Thranduil left the tent in search of his healers, the flicker of hope that had been quickly dying out getting a much needed burst of air to keep it alive with the chance of growing.

Kíli was pretty certain his legs were about to give out from under him in relief and so he sat on the edge of the bed before he ended up sprawled unceremoniously on the ground. Taking a limp hand in his own Kíli pressed a kiss to the back of it, cradling it against his face. “Did you hear that Fee?” He whispered against the pale skin, “Thranduil is going to try and help you. You need to hang in there amralimê, just a little while longer.”

He sniffed, a swell of emotion rising within him and threatening to swallow him whole. Fíli might survive. Thranduil and his healers were on their way and were going to help, and his world that had been getting progressively darker since hearing his brother would likely die had gotten just a little bit brighter.

There was the sound of movement and he looked over his shoulder to see his companions shuffling around the tent, shifting furniture and linen to make way for the buckets Thorin and Dwalin were about to go and fill while Oin lit several lanterns to help them see better. 

“Do you want help?” He asked quietly, not really wanting to leave his brother’s side but knowing he should offer all the same.

“Nay laddie,” Dwalin huffed as he shifted the table out of the way but within easy reach, “you stay with tha’ brother of yours, keep an eye on ‘im until the elf gets back.”

Dwalin knew him too well it seemed, but he wasn’t going to argue. With a nod he fetched a chair and a wet cloth and made himself comfortable near the head of the bed where he was able to wipe the sweat from Fíli’s clammy forehead and whisper soothing nonsense in his ear.

Thorin came over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before stooping to press a gentler one to his brother’s brow. “We need to get the water,” he told his conscious nephew. “We shouldn’t be too long, but send for us if anything changes, understood?”

He nodded and turned back to his One, prayers falling from silent lips that nothing would change between now and Thranduil’s return.

 

* * *

 

Kíli would never suffer through a night as long as this.

He had been left alone with his brother for not even ten minutes when Fíli began taking a turn for the worst.

As he was changing cloths at the nearby table Fíli let out a quiet wheeze, the sound immediately getting his attention. He stood unmoving, hawk-like eyes focused on his brother as he waited to see if it was a trick of the mind or something worse.

The struggling gasp for breath told him it was worse.

Cloth abandoned on the table Kíli was by the blond’s side in an instant, ears and eyes peeled for any sign as to what was wrong. There was no clue at first except for Fíli’s continued wheezing, and worried Oin may have missed something in his examination he prepared to lift his lover in the hope it would take the pressure off his chest when he spotted it.

There, just peeking out from the bandage around Fíli’s chest was a black line.

It hadn’t been there previously, and its sudden appearance sent a trickle of alarm through him. Grabbing a nearby lantern he sat it on the chair, flooding Fíli’s chest with a halo of gold light and making it easier to see. With shaking fingers he gripped the edge of the bandage and pulled it down, just enough to see what exactly it was.

“No…” he breathed in dismay, eyes widening at the sight before him, “nonononono Fee, Fíli, hang in there Âzyungel...”

Hands frantic and movements desperate he quickly removed the bandage, sobbing quietly when he saw the black tinge the wound had taken on as the infection they had tried so hard to avoid festered and spread. Abandoning his vigil at his brother’s bedside he raced to the tent flap, throwing the canvas aside and surprising the guards on watch.

“My prince-” one began, but Kíli quickly cut him off.

“Find my uncle, find Thranduil, find  _someone_ , I don’t care who but they must come quickly. Fíli is getting worse, he’s struggling to breathe and the wounds are infected and you  _must_   _hurry!_ ”

With a nod the two dwarves took off and two other guards lingering nearby who had heard the commotion quickly took over their post.

Without a backwards glance Kíli rushed back to his brother’s side, shifting the chair away from the bed to give himself more room to move around. He grabbed a knife that had been left on the table and frantically began cutting through the bandage that had been so meticulously put on, knowing the last thing the healers would want was to dally removing the bandage while they tried to save Fíli.

He worked quickly but gently, eventually exposing the wound to the air where he could see it better. The entirety of the injury was surrounded by thin black lines that snaked outwards, reminding him of his own injury he’d suffered at the hands of Bolg.

_Wait..._

He stared at the wound for but a minute before he frantically began checking each and every one, cursing as he found the flesh around all of them black and dying, and the realisation was like a slap in the face.

It wasn't infection, it was-

“Kíli?!”

He jumped as Thorin and Dwalin burst into the tent, each carrying a bucket of water like Thranduil had asked for. “What happened?!”

“Uncle! It’s not infection, it’s-”

Before he got to tell Thorin what he’d discovered the tent flap was thrown open again and Thranduil appeared, several healers and Bilbo directly behind him.

“Let me see him,” the elf king instructed and everyone moved quickly out of the way.

Everyone except Kíli.

“Thranduil, it’s not infection,” he said urgently, “its poison. His wounds look exactly like mine did when Bolg shot me back in Mirkwood!”

The elf king acknowledged his words with a glance as he passed, sitting on the edge of the bed and examining the wound that the young dwarf had exposed before checking several others, all of which were identical.

“It appears you are right, gwinig,” Thranduil agreed, his voice like ice as he stared down at the injuries, hands clenched into fists as he fought back his fury, “the Orcs have begun coating their weapons with a morgul poison, and that, that  _kuu`datto_ Azog seems to have taken great joy in coating his the same, likely the teeth of that beast of his as well.

The dwarves looked at one another, fear in their hearts at the elf kings words. Kíli had nearly died in a matter of days because of one wound that had been coated with the poison, and Fíli had many. The chance of the blond prince recovering was fading by the minute, as was their hope.

Kíli stepped forward, refusing to give up on his brother no matter how hopeless the situation seemed. “But you can heal him, can’t you? The same way Tauriel healed me?”

Thranduil sighed, lightly trailing his fingers over the exposed wound and shuddered internally at the evil he could feel radiating from the dying flesh. If he and his healers stood any chance at helping the blond prince the process would be long and draining, not to mention excruciating for the young dwarf. It would almost be kinder to help him pass on to his Creator’s halls.

“We will do what we can,” he told the dwarves instead, nodding to his healers who began arranging themselves around the bed. Bilbo took the King’s cue and moved to the table, laying out the plants that he had fetched before shredding several and steeping them in the hot water which immediately filled the tent with a minty smell.

As the healers took a spot and began removing the bandages Thranduil turned to the Hobbit with what appeared to be a fond look on his face. “You did well master hobbit, we shall make a proper healer of you yet.”

Bilbo blushed at the praise much to everyone’s amusement. “Oh! Well I-” he spluttered before clearing his throat and rocking back on his heels in the movement that had become all too familiar to the dwarves over their journey. “I-I highly doubt that. A Baggins is to always know their plants and the healing properties they possess for each race, my mother always said. Would be a shame to get rid of something that could save lives, after all.”

“Indeed it would be,” Thranduil conceded. “And yet I am thankful for your knowledge all the same. Now, we will need cloths steeped in that water, and they will require regular changing. The athelas will help slow the poison whilst we try and extract it.” As Bilbo began preparing what was needed he turned to the dwarves. “As it is poison we are fighting, it has made the process of removing it and healing your kin much harder. We will try our best, but the pain he will be in, even while unconscious, will be… excruciating. You must prepare yourself for the worst, as there is every chance his heart could give out before we finish.”

Kíli inhaled deeply through his nose in an effort to keep the tears at bay. To hear that Fíli would suffer greatly, even when unconscious, was enough to make him want to call the whole thing off if only to spare his One any more pain.

But by not removing it he was going to suffer even worse.

He drew himself up and squared his shoulders with a firm but understanding look in his eye. “Do what you can,” he replied. “I would have him go through that pain if it meant he survived, than let him die slowly knowing he would suffer until the end.”

Thranduil nodded, accepting the first cloth Bilbo had prepared before positioning himself at the head of the bed. “So be it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gwinig - little one  
> Kuu`Datto - bastard


	8. Hope Is Rekindled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elves have worked on Fili all night, doing everything in their power to free him from the poison that riddles his already battered body.
> 
> But will it be enough?

**A/N: Hello everyone! Well, I had said it wouldn't take me too long to post this and yet, it still took three months -.- I hit a bit of a writers block for a while and have been working on bits and pieces of different chapters, so I'm really hoping that I have shaken said writers block and am back at it. And considering I have at least three stories with partially completed chapters I think I have! Hooray!**

**This chapter is more of a filler chapter than anything, as the first part of this was actually meant to be included in the last chapter but I split it as it seemed to work better. Also, because I'm a clever dumbass I somehow managed to only have half of my outline for this chapter on my document, and it wasn't until yesterday that I thought to check (after I'd fleshed this chapter out for realistic purposes) to see if it was really my whole summary or if there was some stuff missing because "I swear there was more to - fuck. Yeah thought so." That was literally my reaction last night lol. Never mind!**

**Now. I humbly ask for some help. I've created my first ever manip (i think is the right term) for this story which you can see on Tumblr[here](http://filikilithorinforever.tumblr.com/post/145353626860/the-phoenix-in-the-watchtower-chapter-8-hope), but I have no idea how to get it onto the actual document like I want. I haven't a clue how to do it, so if someone can point me in the right direction I will love you forever.**

**Hopefully the image isn't too shit. I honestly have no idea how to do these things but wanted to give it a shot.**

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* * *

 

 

By the time dawn made its first hesitant appearance over Ravenhill, everyone was ready to collapse from exhaustion.

Thorin and Dwalin had been back and forth throughout the night fetching fresh water for Bilbo, the hobbit in turn supplying the elves with what appeared to be an endless stock of linen. Kíli had found Oin and together the pair kept the supply of athelas stocked after being told by Bilbo where to find it and what to look for, as well as food for the all the occupants of the tent. They were at first reluctant to settle for the leaf-wrapped parcels they had been handed, but it wasn’t until Tauriel found them discussing the strange food with wary looks and disbelieving words that they ventured to try it, and to their surprise it was as filling with a single bite as a full meal would otherwise be.

_“Lembas bread,” Tauriel told them with a laugh as their expressions flickered between fascination and disgust, as though they weren’t sure if they should like it or not, “It will sustain an entire army for weeks on end without the need for other food. Seeing as you won’t be getting a decent meal any time soon I think it is a more than suitable substitute.”_

_“It’s gross is what it is,” Kíli grumbled as he shouldered the bag the food and plants had been put into. “No wonder you’re all built like twigs, you eat rabbit food and magical bread.”_

_The bell-like laughter Tauriel graced them with brought a small smile to the young brunet’s face, the first one to have appeared since long before the battle began._

But that had been many hours ago, and to Kíli it could well have been a lifetime for all the difference that one light-hearted moment made. Tauriel and her presence in the camp had long been forgotten, and it was instead the elves tending to his brother who had become the centre of his attention, watching them all like a hawk for any clue as they tried to save his soulmate.

The elves were exhausted, that much was clear, but other than that there was no indication as to how Fíli was faring. Just when Kíli thought they would be at it well past morning there was a sudden drain of energy that swept through the tent, as though a greater power had released the breath it had been holding. Before anyone could question it the healers dropped their hands and stepped away from the bed, supporting each other as they made their way out of the tent silently.

“What happened?” he asked, watching them go with wide eyes. “Is Fíli ok?”

No one replied. The only elf left in the tent now was Thranduil, the elven king remaining where he was at the head of the bed but he was hunched over, fingers gripping the edge of the cot as he breathed deeply.

The dread that trickled down his spine at the sight had Kíli hurrying to Fíli’s side, eyes searching his lover’s body for any sign that indicated the outcome of the elves work.

The steady rise and fall of the battered chest gave him his answer.

“Thank you,” he choked out, eyes conveying what words could not, “thank you for saving him, you have no idea what it means to me.”

The elven king finally raised his head as he released his hold on the bed, eyes tired but unusually soft.

“I understand more than you know,” he rasped quietly, his voice gone as though he’d been talking for hours, and for all Kíli knew he could have been chanting in a tone so low none but his kin had heard it. “I only wish there had been someone to help me the same way when the light of my life was snuffed out.”

He moved to the nearby table where there was a bucket with iced water and filled a cup. Once he had had his fill he turned so he could address the dwarves as a group. “The poison is gone. His spirit was determined to hold on but blood loss and injuries have made him incredibly weak, it was a near thing he survived the night. You must understand it will take much time and patience on his behalf, and yours, for him to be strong enough to fend for himself. I know not what will happen when his injuries begin to heal; walking is still not a certainty and there is not much we can do aside from provide some plants and tea for the pain when and if he needs it. We have done what we can; the rest is up to him.”

Not waiting for a reply or thanks the King swept out of the tent leaving the dwarves and hobbit alone.

Thorin joined Kíli at his spot beside the bed, watching the younger stroke over the pale face with delicate fingers while he covered one of Fíli’s hands with his own. Seeing both of his boys now; pale, tired, and in Fíli’s case near death sent shame and guilt flooding through him. He had sworn never to become like what his grandfather had become in his final years, swore if they should ever reclaim Erebor he would not fall to the same temptation and sickness as Thrór had done.

He didn’t even last a day before the gold sickness had consumed him.

In his gold-driven obsession the two most important people in his life had nearly died because of him, so as the King, but more importantly as their uncle who had helped raise them he vowed he would do his best to ensure he never endangered them again.

But that was all in the future. For now he needed to focus on the urgent matters that he had put aside while he worried over Fíli. Turning to look at his advisor who was reading over a missive that had arrived sometime during the night he called Balin’s name, the older dwarf looking up at him curiously.

“How fare the others?” he asked, knowing full well he would have to face Dain at some point for his neglect of the dwarves who had joined the march to free his kingdom, not to mention the rest of the Company. There was so much he should have done already and yet he had ignored it all in favour of his family.

Not that he’d ever regret it.

It seemed Balin knew him well, for the older dwarf smiled understandingly at him. “For the most part Dain's men are well. There were many deaths and injuries, but casualties are expected in any battle and this one was no different. We have already started instructing those with minor wounds to begin clearing rooms in the mountain to move everyone into. With winter moving in sheltering the injured is our first priority, followed by everyone else.”

The look of relief that appeared on Thorin’s face made him chuckle. “Don't worry Thorin, they are all aware Fíli was hurt and your focus has been on him, no one will begrudge you your fears as an uncle for losing his nephew.”

It was though a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Dain and his men were already beginning to work on making part or Erebor habitable, and they would soon be able to move indoors and away from the biting chill that was heralding the arrival of winter. But there was still one group of dwarves he was desperate to hear about. “What of the rest of the Company Balin?” he asked, “how are they all?” If any of them had died, or been badly injured he knew he would never forgive himself. Not for their death, nor for neglecting their remaining family members in their time of grief.

It would be a regret he would carry for the rest of his life.

“Relax Thorin,” Balin soothed, “they are well. A few bumps and bruises but they all made it through the battle no worse for wear. In fact in some cases they are better; Bifur’s axe was removed and he’s begun talking again, albeit haltingly, but he’s talking all the same.”

“Really?!” Kíli asked disbelievingly, having been listening in on the conversation and the news was enough to drag his attention away from his brother to look at his mentor in shock. Bifur’s injury had occurred years before he was born, and to hear that the toymaker he had loved dearly as a child now had the chance of a normal filled him with joy.

“Indeed, it’s certainly been a shock for everyone, but Bofur and Bombur are just happy to have him back.” He smiled at the look of happiness that passed between the two dwarves, before continuing on with his report.

“I have allocated them all to oversee the clearing of the rooms in Erebor, as I figured you would trust none but them to ensure the safety of the mountain and everything inside it. Ori and Dori are currently doing an inventory of the nearby rooms as well as stockpiling whatever can be used to help the wounded, Bifur and Bofur are overseeing the clearing of the rooms, Gloin is keeping the treasury locked and is removing anything of significant value from the rooms that are being cleared to a safe area so that whatever is found can be noted down and one day returned to the correct families, Oin will be overseeing the distribution of all medical supplies as well as working with the elves to get any medicines that will be needed, Bombur is lead cook, Nori is keeping tabs on everyone and any he thinks might cause problems in the near future and Dwalin will be your personal guard.”

“You seem to have everything well in hand,” Thorin noted, grateful Balin had taken charge where he had not. “Now that Fíli is free of the poison I can begin focusing on Erebor and her restoration.”

Balin put down the scroll and walked over to the bed to clap him on the shoulder. “Take as long as you need Thorin, Erebor is ours and she won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I will come to you when important decisions need to be made and I will debrief you at the end of each day to keep you up to speed. Aside from clearing space and getting everyone into the mountain not much will be happening. As Thranduil said, Fíli will need all the support he can get and that means he will need you and Kíli there to help him as much as possible.”

“Aye,” Dwalin agreed from his spot near the entrance, “the lad needs his uncle more than the dwarves need a present King right now.”

His hesitation was obvious, but one look at his nephews’ only reaffirmed the truth in his friend's words.

“Alright,” he agreed with a nod, “I will leave the beginning of Erebor’s restoration to you, Balin. As you said, winter is moving in and we need to get as many dwarves indoors as possible. But keep everyone out of the treasury until I decide what must be done with it. I cannot have anyone else fall prey to the sickness that lingers.”

Balin nodded, immediately planning on how to keep the dwarves away from the gold. “I will do what I can Thorin, but the sooner we come up with a plan, the better.”

 

* * *

 

It had been three days since Thranduil had left Fíli’s bedside, three days since the elf king and his healers had removed the poison that riddled the blond’s body and given him the fighting chance he so desperately needed.

But still he had not woken.

The icy claws of winter had started digging in deep; each night the setting sun brought with it a biting chill, and each sunrise saw a crisp day with no cloud cover to preserve any ground heat.

The first morning they had woken to frost covering the ground had been cause for alarm; they were still trying to clear out the rooms planned to house the wounded dwarves, and with the speed in which winter was setting in they feared they would lose many of the injured in their race against nature.

It was a fear Kíli felt all too keenly with every visible puff of breath from his brother’s blue-tinged lips.

He had hoped that the tent would keep out the worst of the chill, that the thick canvas and the bandages and light blanket they had managed to find would be enough to ward it off, but just to be safe he sent word for Oin to check over his brother.

After exchanging greetings the healer got to work, Kíli hovering anxiously nearby.

“This isn’t good,” the healer eventually said as he listened to the blond's chest, “he’s okay for now, but if we don’t get him indoors soon there’s a very real chance he could end up with pneumonia or hypothermia. His body is still struggling with its injuries; he’s in no position to be fighting anything else off.”

Kíli clapped the older dwarf on the shoulder. “Understood. Thank you for your help, Oin.” Drawing Fíli’s blanket up a little bit higher he sighed in frustration. Every time he thought Fíli was out of the woods something else happened, and with the risk of further illness he worried that his brother’s body would just give up, unable to take any more stress.

He had to do something. All this sitting around, while being near to Fíli brought him comfort, it wasn’t going to help in the slightest. He thought on it, pacing the tent as he tried to work out just what he could do to make it warmer without piling more on top of Fíli and putting a strain on his injuries.

It was as he was pacing that he looked to the roof of the tent when his head had tipped backwards with a groan and spotted some light filtering through a hole. He grabbed a chair and a table, and with a bit of a balancing act eventually managed to get up high enough to see what it was. When he realised that the hole in the canvas was deliberate and not a tear a plan quickly began to form. After scrambling down from his rather precarious position, something he knew Thorin would castrate him for if he caught him doing something that stupid, he raced over and placed a gentle kiss to his brother’s brow, his worry and determination building further at the slight chill that clung to Fíli’s skin. “I’ll be right back Fee, I promise.”

He needed supplies, but he knew that everything that was in the camp was being used and he refused to take from his kin when they were in need of it just as Fíli was.

It meant a trip around the outskirts of the camp to see what he could find.

He left the tent, groaning in displeasure when the sun that he had hardly seen since Thranduil had left blinded him momentarily. Once he regained his sight he set about looking for a wheelbarrow that he could fill with large rocks, and upon finding that and a few other tools he got to work.

 

A few hours later Kíli was putting the finishing touches on his fire pit in the centre of the tent, kneeling back to look at it proudly. He’d created a well with the stones; the high walls designed to stop any small embers from drifting too far and starting a fire. He’d made sure to include a small ventilation hole at the base of the pit that faced the tent entrance to keep a constant air supply before placing the small amount of wood he’d found at the bottom so a pit of coals could form, which would smoulder and keep the tent warm. The last task he had to do was open the ventilation hole he’d discovered earlier at the top of the tent for the smoke to escape and ensure they didn’t choke.

Once he was happy with his work he fetched a bucket of water for safety and would soon start his hunt for firewood, wanting a decent supply on hand so he wouldn’t have to constantly hunt some down while they waited for the move into the mountain.

“Kíli?”

The brunet looked up from where he was kneeling on the ground and blinked owlishly from the light that suddenly pierced the tent as the flap opened. There was a dwarf standing just in the entrance with two bowls clutched in his hands and it took him a moment to work out just who it was, but when he did he smiled.

“Uncle,” he greeted warmly, standing and dusting his pants off, “what brings you here?”

“Dwalin said he’d seen you wandering the camp with various things and so I thought I’d come see what you were up to.” The yet to be crowned king looked around, an impressed smile curving his lips. “I see you’ve been quite busy.”

Kíli took his uncle by the arm and showed him his labours, explaining Oin’s concerns and how he had decided to do what he could to help his brother.

“I’m impressed inùdoy ” Thorin said after a moment, making Kíli smile bashfully. “I know your brother would appreciate it, were he awake.”

He sobered slightly, eyes searching out his One almost unconsciously. “He would do the same for me, were our positions reversed.”

“Aye, he would.” Thorin grabbed a chair and brought it to Fíli’s bedside, motioning for Kíli to take a seat as well.

Handing a bowl of stew to his nephew Thorin sat down, silence filling the tent save for Fíli’s breathing and the occasional thud of the spoon against the bowl as they ate. “How does he fare?” he asked eventually. “You said Oin has concerns of pneumonia and hypothermia, but how is he, really?” He had been mostly absent over the last two days; talks with Bard and Thranduil over reparations and with Gandalf over the best way to remove any curse that lingered on the gold had taken up most of his time, and so any progress Fíli might’ve made would be unknown to him.

Kíli shrugged, sadness in his eyes despite the offhand gesture. “He’s the same. No worse, but no better either. You wouldn’t know he lived if not for his breathing. But I fear what this cold will do to him uncle. He needs shelter from the elements, and I don’t know how much longer he will remain unaffected.”

Despite his best efforts he was unable to keep the tremble from his voice, something Thorin had noticed keenly. Setting aside his bowl he slid from his chair and knelt before his nephew, placing a gentle hand on his neck and drawing him forward so their foreheads touched.

“I know you worry Kíli, but Fíli loves you, more than life itself and he would not abandon you. He will fight this, with everything he has and he _will_ come back to you. I promise.”

Kíli sniffed softly and nodded, the movement only slight. “I just wish he would wake up, or make a noise. _Something_ to tell me he’s still with us. With me.”

“K...ee…”

Both dwarves jumped in shock and whipped around to look at the golden prince slumbering beside them, their movements so fast they were lucky not to hurt each other.

“Fíli?” Kíli breathed, placing a hand on his brother’s cheek, stroking it lightly. “Fee? Can you hear me Ruzdel?”

There was no response, no movement. Nothing to indicate Fíli had woken at all save for the slight part in previously closed lips.

Thorin placed an arm around his nephew’s shoulders, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “He heard you,” he laughed quietly, relief beyond measure coursing through his veins. “He heard you and answered. He may not wake for some time, but he is still with us, and we must take comfort from that.”

Kíli sighed but nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to Fíli’s lips before standing and giving his uncle a wan smile. “If it is to be the only comfort given by him then so be it.” He looked at his fire place and back at Thorin. “Do you have plans this afternoon that need you to be elsewhere? I need to collect some firewood and I don’t want to leave Fíli by himself.”

“Nothing that can’t be brought in here,” Thorin told him, more than happy to stay with Fíli if it meant Kíli getting some fresh air. “Find Balin and Dwalin and tell them I’m here, they’ll ensure the message is passed on to those who need it. As for firewood, Bofur should be around here somewhere, he was having lunch with Bombur last I saw. He’ll be able to take you into the mountain and show you where all the broken wood is that they’ve been piling up.”

Kíli gave Thorin a hug in thanks, and with a last look at the still slumbering dwarf he exited the tent.

 

Thorin moved back to Fíli’s bedside and sat on the edge of his cot, stroking over his hair before he set about redoing his braids, the task familiar and calming; something he sorely needed right now.

“You know Kíli has never had much patience,” he said to his nephew conversationally, running his fingers through the golden tresses to untangle them, “and you making him wait for you to wake up has been hard for him. I hope it’s not revenge for the time he fell ill and slept for almost an entire week when you were younger. How impatient you were.” He chuckled at the memory, remembering fondly how he had one day found Fíli, all of fifteen years old sitting outside his parents’ bedroom door where Kíli was being kept away from him with the most intense glower on his face that Thorin had ever witnessed from the toddler.

If the door had been a person he would have felt sorry for it.

“You were not a happy dwarfling during that entire week. In fact I don’t know who was more upset about the situation, you or him.” He laughed again, remembering all too well how long it took for him to convince his nephew that they could play together while Kíli slept, and that Kíli was sleeping because he had to get better.

“It’s your turn to sleep and get better now, inùdoy. Although I think I speak for all of us when I say we’d prefer it if you didn’t take too much longer. We’d all like to see you awake sooner rather than later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inùdoy - son  
> Ruzdel - sun of all suns


	9. The Sun Is What Unites Us

**A/N: Hello everyone! Okay, so I think it's fair to say my promises for writing faster is just hot air that needs to be ignored. So never fear, this will never be abandoned and I'll do my best to be faster but I make no promises :P Also having no internet and home and STILLLLLLL waiting for it to be installed is driving me mental. If I'd had it this would have been posted a week ago. Thank god for house sitting with free internet! :D**

**One thing about leaving it for so long between updates (writers block and lack of inspiration does that to you) is that you realise you forget minor details from earlier chapters, and when you reread them realise what you've forgotten and then have to try and work it back in somehow lol. In this case I'd completely forgotten Kili and Thorin had injuries and yet Kili went and build a fireplace in the tent in the previous chapter. Hopefully Mr Boggins will sort that out here :)**

**And as an apology for leaving it for four months, have 4000 words :)**

**Special shout out to[Froot_Luips](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Froot_Luips), [soytejana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/soytejana), [dab](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dab), [TessyMoss](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TessyMoss), [blkurobl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blkurobl), [SarcasticSmiler](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSmiler), [bindsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bindsy), [stephaniejoiner1061](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniejoiner1061), [GimmeDatElephant](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GimmeDatElephant), [hdburke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hdburke), [DancingInTheRain](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingInTheRain), [eyesonly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly), [islandkate](http://archiveofourown.org/users/islandkate), [BlackberrySage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackberrySage), [Makojupiter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Makojupiter), [ShadowOfHapiness](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowOfHapiness), [Calic0cat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Calic0cat), [bammes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bammes), [delank_89](http://archiveofourown.org/users/delank_89), [injerannie94](http://archiveofourown.org/users/injerannie94), [stonkia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stonkia), [Destiny101](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny101), [bloatedblond](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bloatedblond), [waterlilyblue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waterlilyblue), [Januarytale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Januarytale), [Silva_13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13), [SaucyWench](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SaucyWench), [Shay_Moonsilk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk), [ladylin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylin), [Daisyjayne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyjayne), [FireAndGoldInOurEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FireAndGoldInOurEyes), [asfaloth12](http://archiveofourown.org/users/asfaloth12), [SpyderzW3b](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderzW3b), [DreamingMymmeli](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingMymmeli), [kattybats](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kattybats), [Bragrid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bragrid), [Lionsmane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionsmane), [Finduilas88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas88), [Ruairi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruairi), [WithywindlesDaughter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WithywindlesDaughter), [TawnyEyes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TawnyEyes), [Milliegirl21](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliegirl21), [Jiri](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiri), [beanie168](http://archiveofourown.org/users/beanie168), [Paintedsmile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Paintedsmile), [dardragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dardragon), [WerewulfTherewulf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf), [Raekor](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raekor), [Sidney90](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidney90), [Bubbles759](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbles759),  [confxsed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/confxsed), [pandorasxbox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasxbox), [mjeanuniverse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mjeanuniverse), [Astaraiche](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Astaraiche), [MatildaJohnson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaJohnson), [megavenger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/megavenger), [sarahjhutch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjhutch), [madbutterfly](http://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly), [L_The_other_consulting_detective](http://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective), [cybersuzy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cybersuzy), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan), [EmeraldJaded](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldJaded), [FirstLovexx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstLovexx), [Blueskydancers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueskydancers), [fkuz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fkuz), [mosslover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover), [xNamikaze](http://archiveofourown.org/users/xNamikaze), [ThornyHedge](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyHedge) and [narnia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narnia) as well as the 101 guests who've commented/kudosed, you guys are awesome!**

 

* * *

                                                   
 

Exiting the tent Kíli inhaled deeply, the crisp winter air stinging his nose in a way that reminded him of home and his many camping trips with his brother. While winter in Ered Luin meant a lack of hunting it had also given the brothers a type of freedom that was hard to come by in the summer. The white wonderland his village transformed into often meant the chance of snowball fights, snow fairies and snowmen rather than the usual lessons and forge duties.

Smiling fondly at the thought of his home and the memories that accompanied it he ventured further into the campsite, nodding at dwarves, men and elves alike as he passed. Thankfully his search for Bofur didn’t last very long, as raucous laughter that he recognised all too well drew him towards a clump of tents. He made his way over and soon came across his friends who were gathered around a small campfire.

“Kíli!”

Six faces turned towards him, smiles breaking out at the sight of their young prince.

“Well hello there lad!” Bofur hurried over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving him a light squeeze. “It’s good to see yer out and about.”

“It’s good to be out and about,” Kíli laughed. “When this is all over I hope I never see the interior of a tent again.”

Bofur gave his friend a warm smile, relieved to hear the humour in his voice for it could only mean that Fíli was doing better. “How’re ye holding up kid?” He asked instead, looking him up and down and frowning. “Yer pale as a ghost! Here, come and sit down, there’s some stew left if yer want some.”

“Think nothing of it my friend,” Kíli chuckled, “tis nothing more than a lack of sunlight, worry and this persistent cold. As for the stew I’ll have to decline, and besides, I’m pretty certain it was some of your stew Thorin brought me.”

“Oh good,” Bombur piped up from where he was munching on an apple, “he did find you then.”

“He did indeed,” he replied, “And thank you for the stew Bombur, it was delicious as usual.” He turned to look at Bofur who had left his side in favour of fetching his ale. “Bofur, I need your help if you have time to spare?”

The miner nodded. “For you kid? Always.”

With a relieved smile Kíli told Bofur of his plan to visit Erebor in the hopes of finding some firewood as well as anything that could be used to keep Fíli warm until they could get him into the castle.

Bofur hummed thoughtfully as he fiddled with the end of his moustache. “I think I know where yer might find just what yer looking for Kíli.” He looked up at the sky, finding the sun at its zenith. “I reckon we’d get a few good hours in in the mountain if yer want to go now, that way yer’d be back in plenty of time before the sun sets.”

“Sounds good.” Kíli looked to Dwalin and Balin who were talking quietly and looking over a scroll the older dwarf was holding. “Balin, Dwalin,” he called, drawing the attention of his two mentors, “Thorin said to inform you that should you need him, or should anyone else need him for that matter, he will be spending the rest of the afternoon in Fíli’s tent.”

“Thank you laddie,” Balin replied with a smile. “We need to speak to him anyway and it’ll be good to see your brother for ourselves.”

Kíli nodded before turning back to Bofur who had grabbed his pack. “You ready to go?”

“Ready when you are lad.”

“Here Kíli,” Nori said, standing and bringing over his own pack, “I think you’ll find you’ll need this.”

Kíli smiled at the redhead and shouldered the bag, grateful that anything he found wouldn’t have to be left behind or carried in his arms. With an inclination of his head at his companions he turned to Bofur and the pair of them ventured from the campsite.

 

* * *

 

“Well,” Thorin said thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair, “I suppose I should be grateful the damage isn’t worse, all things considered.”

“Aye,” Dwalin agreed, looking up from where he was sharpening his axe with his whetstone, “if there’s one good thing to be said about dragons-”

“There’s _nothing_ good to be said about dragons -”

“- It’s that they’re lazy and uninterested in anything but gold,” Dwalin continued, as though he hadn’t been interrupted. “Which means that, aside from the odd bit of rubble, we’ll get everyone in and homed without too much hassle.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that, Dwalin,” Balin sighed, folding his hands on his belly. “We’ll have to check the structural integrity of all the homes, walkways and pillars, fix plumbings and the crystals used to let in light. But,” he conceded when Dwalin rolled his eyes in exasperation, “as my brother said, less hassle. At least we won’t have to start from scratch like we did with Ered Luin.”

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a weary sigh. “And the main halls are alright, you say?”

“Aye, they need a bit more clearing out and we’ll need to block off some areas that haven’t been checked yet, but for the most part they’re fine.”

He nodded and turned to look at Oin who was busy giving Fíli his daily bath. With Fíli unable to move he was at risk of developing sores on his body, and by washing him daily it gave the healer a chance to check all was well, including examining his injuries and ensuring none were showing any signs of returning infection. “Oin, has there been any progress on the infirmary?”

When there was no answer he sighed, raising his voice as he called the older dwarf again. “Oin!”

Still there was no answer and it was then he noticed that Oin’s ever present ear trumpet was lying on a nearby table. With an exasperated sigh he grabbed the spoon from Kíli’s empty stew bowl and threw it across the tent, wincing slightly when it collided with the side of the healers head.

“Eh? What?” Oin turned to look, confusion marring his face. When he spotted the raised eyebrow Thorin was sporting his confusion turned to exasperation. “Worse than ye nephews you are,” he huffed, rubbing the now tender spot. “If you wanted my attention you should’ve just yelled.”

Balin and Dwalin snorted.

“I did!” Thorin grumbled defensively, glaring at his two snickering friends. “You just - oh forget it. What’s the status of the infirmary?”

“The armoury? I wouldn’t know laddie, I’m a healer, not a guard.”

Thorin heaved himself out of his chair and stalked to the apothecary's side, grabbing the ear horn and thrusting it at him in annoyance. “The infirmary,” he repeated once said horn was in place, enunciating each syllable slowly. “What is its status?”

“Ohhhh, the _infirmary_. You really oughtn’t mumble Thorin, it makes it so much harder to understand you.”

Thorin threw his hands in the air and stalked away in exasperation, missing the smirk and wink Oin sent the brothers who were holding their sides, their entire frames shaking with laughter. “It’s coming along nicely, my King,” Oin chuckled, setting his cloth onto the table after covering Fíli up again. “The fireplace in the main chamber had suffered significant damage, so I am waiting for that to be cleared and fixed before I allow any patients to be moved in.”

Resettling himself in his chair Thorin looked over at the apothecary. “I’m not king yet Oin, so Thorin will do fine. How long do you think that will take?”

Forgoing an immediate answer Oin walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I haven’t got plans to follow any King but you, Thorin,” he said solemnly, “so official title or not you are, and always will be, my king.”

Thorin placed a hand over Oin’s and smiled at him, well aware his words were a near echo of Dwalin’s sentiments which had first been spoken in a time of darkness and black magic. The loyalty of his kin was as humbling as it was overwhelming, and the fact that these dwarves - who had seen the worst of him not a week ago - were still willing to follow him and call him King was something he would never take for granted again.

“Thank you my friend. So, how long are we looking at here?”

“A week, give or take a few days. It depends on how bad the overall structural damage is, something Bofur said we should know more about soon.”

He nodded thoughtfully. He could understand the need for a week, but with the change of season the longer the injured stayed outdoors the more likely they were to lose them. And with Fíli’s fate, like so many others hanging in the balance it was a risk he was unwilling to take. “You have three days,” he said eventually. “Winter is only going to get worse, and the longer we leave the injured to the mercy of nature the less chance of surviving they’ll have. If the heating isn’t sorted by then we will look for other solutions to keep them warm, but we _must_ get them into the mountain.”

Oin heaved a sigh, the complexity of what Thorin was asking of them glaringly obvious. “We’ll do our best,” he assured him, “but everyone’s tired Sire. Rest hasn’t been a luxury since the battle as everyone has been working their hardest to get the main halls cleared for use. But I suppose once we’re all inside there will be less of a rush and more chance for sleep.”

The healer looked to Balin for confirmation of his thoughts, relieved to see him nodding. “As much as I wish we had the extra time Thorin is right,” Balin agreed. “We were not designed to survive winter above ground, but once we are inside Erebor we have a greater chance at saving our kin and restoring our home without any added pressure. I will send word to Dain, Bard and Thranduil to inform them of your decision,” he told Thorin. “Do you wish to extend the offer of shelter inside the mountain to Bard and Thranduil as well?”

It was clear from the look on his friend’s face that it wasn’t something he agreed within the slightest. “Extend the offer to them,” Thorin said after swallowing harshly several times. “They helped us win the mountain back and it is only right that we offer them shelter until they too can get back on their feet.”

Balin smiled proudly. He knew that even the thought of the Elven King in his halls went against Thorin’s very being, so the fact that he was able to put his personal grievances aside spoke volumes for how far he had come since the first influences of the gold sickness. “I shall, and I will bring their response to you post haste.” He nodded to the other two dwarves and made his way for the exit when a call of his name stopped him. “Thorin?”

“See if you can find our burglar,” Thorin told him, “he has been noticeably absent these last few days and I wish to make sure all is well with him.”

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

After asking around for the location of both the Elven King and the Dragonslayer Balin made his way to Thranduil’s camp, bowing his head respectfully to the elves he passed. It would do no good to forget his manners now when a lasting peace between the two kingdoms was just within reach.

Surprisingly, every elf he nodded at offered him the same courtesy in return, and with every one that he passed his hopes for a peaceful future grew. He eventually he found himself outside the royal tent, and was contemplating how to word Thorin’s proposition when there was a delighted call of his name. He turned his head and found a much cleaner and happier looking Bilbo hurrying towards him.

“There you are laddie!” he said happily as the hobbit stopped in front of him, “we’ve all been wondering where you’d gotten too!”

A hesitant expression crossed his friends face making him instantly suspicious. “What is it Bilbo?”

The hobbit fiddled with the bottom of his waistcoat nervously. “With everything that has happened in the last week I can understand Thorin being preoccupied with both Fíli and the restoration of Erebor,” he began, “but I fear he hasn’t forgotten what I did that got us to this point.”

Balin frowned. “Whatever do you mean Bilbo?”

“I took the Arkenstone Balin! I betrayed his trust and handed it to those he calls - or rather called - enemy in the hopes of bringing peace. He threw me from the parapet and banished me and -”

“Breathe, Bilbo,” Balin said in alarm, hands shooting out to grasp the hobbit by the shoulders. “That is all in the past. And you’re right, you betrayed his trust. But by betraying him you _saved_ him, you saved all of us. The Thorin that we’ve answered to since arriving at Erebor wasn’t our Thorin, it was a Thorin consumed by greed and darkness. But your betrayal, and sacrifice might I add, brought back the Thorin I swore my fealty to long ago. He does not blame you for what you did, in fact he is grateful and dare I say indebted to you as well.”

That left the Halfling speechless. “He’s - I - what?”

“Indebted to you, yes. From what my brother has told me if it hadn’t been for your warning we would have lost more on Ravenhill than we did. Mahal strike me down for saying this but I likely would have been burying at least one Durin, if not all three.” He paused, breathing deeply against the pain that pierced his heart at the mere thought of losing one of his closest friends and the two dwarflings - for that's what they'd always be in his mind - he had known since birth. “Just the thought of what could have been, Bilbo, brings pain to my old heart, the likes of which I haven't felt since Smaug took Erebor from us. But you stopped that from happening. You, no one else. I know that, Thorin knows it, and when all is said and done the citizens of Erebor will know it too.”

Flustered, Bilbo looked around as he tried to process what Balin had told him. “But I didn't _do_ anything Balin…” he said weakly.

“You did more than you know,” Balin promised him, “and now you can help me again. Thorin has asked me to meet with Thranduil and Bard, and I would greatly appreciate it if you could come along, just as a mediator should one be needed.”

Bilbo smiled weakly. The thought of tales one day being told about him was something he would need time to come to terms with, but assisting Balin would help distract him for the time being. “Of course,” he told his friend, motioning to the entrance of the tent, “it would be my honour. Now, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

The tent flap opened and Thorin looked up from where he was seated beside Fíli’s bed with a scroll, his injured leg propped up on the edge of the cot.

“Balin,” he greeted as his friend entered the tent, “how did it - Bilbo!” A wide smile split his face at the appearance of the Hobbit, and a quick examination told him that he had been well looked after.

“Hello Thorin,” Bilbo replied, his lips quirking in a hesitant smile. “You look well.”

“As do you,” Thorin chuckled. “Enough with the formalities master burglar. Please, come in.”

Balin led the way into the tent and Bilbo followed, automatically moving for the teapot that was sitting on the makeshift fireplace in the middle of the tent. “Where did this come from?” He asked curiously, waving a hand at the fireplace, “I don't recall that being there when I was last here.”

“Kíli built it to-”

“He _built it_?!”

Thorin frowned at the hobbit’s flabbergasted exclamation. “Well, yes. Why do you sound so surprised? Kíli is more than capable of -”

“Thorin,” Bilbo huffed in exasperation, “he has an injured wrist. You heard the healer, he’s not supposed to be using his hand until it’s healed! Or has he decided archery is no longer important to him?”

Thorin blinked. He hadn't even thought of what the healers had said to them that night. Their attention had solely been on Fíli and his healing, and after that it was about clearing and restoring Erebor. Now that he thought about it he knew his own injuries had been bothering him but, like always, he’d put those thoughts to the back of his mind in favour of others.

“And I don’t see your crutch anywhere near here either,” Bilbo continued, tutting under his breath as he strained the leaves rather vigorously. “One would think you didn’t care for your wellbeing at all -”

“Bilbo -”

“Blatantly disregarding what the healer _clearly_ instructed -”

“ _Bilbo -”_

“Dwarves may be hardy but they’re not _invincible_ \- Balin what _are_ you laughing at?!”

“Sorry,” the old dwarf chuckled, not in the slightest bit apologetic. He was aware there was a deep and profound respect and, dare he say it – love that Bilbo held for Thorin, something he was beginning to realise was returned; but hearing the Halfling scold his friend and king fiercely was something he found rather amusing.

Especially if, in the future, their friendship was to become something more.

Realising the Halfling was waiting for an answer he cleared his throat. “It’s nothing Bilbo, my apologies.”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes not at all convinced, but he wasn’t given a chance to question Balin further.

“Now that Bilbo has finished scolding me,” Thorin interrupted, his tone laced with amusement, “how did your meeting go Balin?”

“Good,” the advisor replied, giving the grumpy hobbit one last grin before turning to his king. “At least better than I would have expected so soon after reclaiming the mountain. Bard has decided to take us up on our offer; with winter moving in and Dale in serious disrepair it will take time and effort to get the basic structures repaired enough for them to move in. If all goes well he is hoping they will only be in Erebor for a short time.”

“And Thranduil?”

“He has declined the offer as they are intending to return to Mirkwood.”

Thorin’s eyes narrowed marginally at that. “What, is Erebor not good enough for him? He asked somewhat petulantly.

“I rather think they wish to be in their own home environment,” Bilbo tutted, levelling Thorin with an unimpressed look. “They are creatures of the trees and nature, Thorin, not rock and stone like Dwarves. Besides, Thranduil said that Erebor is your home, and that as courteous as your offer is it is only right that you have the chance to enjoy it without the added pressure of prejudice among subjects and refugees.”

Thorin looked at the pair in astonishment.

“That is how I felt also,” Balin laughed, “although I was more reserved in my expressions. The Thranduil we are dealing with now is different from the Thranduil of old. Give it time though, I’m sure he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Thorin shook his head, still trying to get around the fact that the Elven King - who had been his sworn enemy right up until the battle - was trying to keep peace between the two kingdoms was something he was struggling to get his head around. He didn’t know what it was that had brought out this side of him but, after glancing at his unconscious nephew, he was certain he had an idea.

Perhaps there was hope for their kingdoms after all.

 

* * *

 

Kíli didn’t return until dusk, and although he was tired and filthy there was a pleased smile on his face telling Thorin he’d had a productive afternoon. He ordered one of the guards to bring some water for the prince to clean himself and held the tent flap open as Kíli, who was followed by Bofur pushing a wheelbarrow, entered the tent.

While Bofur stacked the firewood, something he insisted he was happy to do, Kíli removed his pack and emptied it onto the floor where he could show Thorin his discoveries; two warming pans and a thick fur blanket.

“Bofur showed me where the royal chambers were uncle, and I was going through them when I found these.”

“A fine find indeed,” Thorin agreed, lifting the fur and humming in approval at how well it had survived the years of neglect. “Was this all that survived?”

Kíli shook his head. “We went through all the royal chambers and the homes that had belonged to the… wealthier dwarves,” Kíli paused and a sour look crossed his face, “we handed most of the furs and bedpans to the infirmary and anyone else that needed them.”

Thorin didn’t blame him for his reaction, the attitudes of many of the dwarves in Thror’s court had often left a bad taste in his mouth and knowing Kíli had seen first-hand the remnants of their lives and how shallow many of them had been saddened him greatly. To know that his people had fought to survive since the fall of Erebor, that his beloved nephews had known nothing of wealth but everything of hard work and working to survive felt _wrong_. He would never deny how proud they made him, and the hope they both brought with their free spirits and laughter, but there had been times he wished that they had had the full upbringing only a prince of Erebor could get.

The winter that had almost taken them both from him had been one of those times.

He placed a hand at the back of his nephew’s neck and squeezed gently, giving him a warm smile. “I am so proud of you,” he told him, “what Erebor would have been like if more of her wealthier dwarves had been as kind and compassionate as you.”

Kíli blinked in surprise. “Uncle… I-”

Thorin pressed a finger to the younger dwarf’s lips. “As you have just seen on your exploration, Thror’s court was filled with dwarves who cared for no one but themselves and were inclined to do nothing but fill their own pockets. They were dwarves with soft hands and fat bellies who have never known the meaning of hard work, let alone how to use a pickaxe. But you… you and your brother will be the guiding lights that Erebor needs during her rebuild.”

He looked beyond Kíli, as though he could see the past as clear as day. “It has always been my dream to reclaim Erebor, to return our people to our homeland and restore what was stolen. But in my anger over Smaug I had never stopped to consider the poison that ran through Erebor’s veins. The greed that led to suffering, the wealth of some that threatened the livelihoods of others... But no more.”

He blinked and looked back at Kíli who was watching him curiously. “Erebor will not just be restored, but remade, and you and your brother will help me show everyone that we are all equals, regardless of their position now or in history.”

Kíli smiled at him, a spark flaring to life in his eyes. Hard work was something he and his brother had always valued, this Thorin knew well, and unfortunately the darker sides of Erebor’s history had been hidden from them during their studies and the many tales they had been told. For Kíli to have seen the dirty secrets the mountain had concealed, and to then have Thorin promise to eradicate them and start afresh was obviously something his nephew was desperate to hear.

“I trust you Uncle,” Kíli told him, fierce pride in his voice, “as does Fee. Too long has Erebor slept, and too long has corruption tainted our home, but no more. Erebor is ours, and we will turn it into the mightiest kingdom Middle Earth has ever seen.”

Pressing their foreheads together Thorin chuckled. “That sounds like a plan inùdoy, but I think we’ll take it one step at a time all the same.

First things first is that we get Fíli well, then we will go from there.”


End file.
